


Louder than the Crack in the Bell

by Clare_Hope



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: A lot of pain, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual John Laurens, Bisexual Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, More angst than is necessary, a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 38,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6771088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clare_Hope/pseuds/Clare_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows that the only way he'll ever be useful after having his magic broken is to die fighting in the revolution, but falling for a freckled young man who also has magic changes everything. Alexander Hamilton tries to fight-for his friends, for the cause, often for his life against his own body-but both he and John Laurens have their own troubles, despite fighting for each other as well, in whatever way they can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Alex heard his stomach rumble and he sighed despairingly, looking around in the hope that he would spot the person he had been told to contact on his arrival in the city. He had nothing but a vague description and a name to go on, though, and he was having a lot of difficulty finding him. To top it off, he had no more money left and nowhere to stay that night.

He cursed his luck as the dark clouds gathering in the sky gave off a clap of thunder. The people on the street all scurried into their homes or shops to escape the certain onslaught of rain that would follow, and Alex was left standing in the cold all by himself.

No, not all by himself. Near the entrance to a skinny, dark alleyway behind a tailor’s shop leaned a dark-skinned young man. He was wearing a covertly visible pin on his sleeve marking him as a part of the revolution. Alex felt his heart skip a beat as he wondered if this was the man he was supposed to find. The man wasn't looking at him, but Alex got the impression that he was completely aware of Alex as he walked over.

The man turned towards Alex as he spoke. “Pardon me. Are you Aaron Burr, sir?” inquired Alex.

A small, wary, polite smile spread across the man’s face. “That depends. Who's asking?”

Sheepishly, Alex waved his hand. “Oh. Sure. I'm Alexander Hamilton. I was looking for the revolution, and some people suggested I spoke to you, so I came here and I asked around and several people told me where to find you, but I met someone who seemed to know you, I got sort of out of sorts with him. I may have punched him, it's a blur...he handles the financials at the University?”

Burr’s eyebrow twitched. “You punched the bursar?”

Alex nodded quickly. “Yes, that's it. I told him that I wanted to enroll there, graduate in two years and then join the revolution, and he looked at me like I was stupid. I'm not stupid. But I know you did that, spent two years at the University and graduated and then joined the revolution. How'd you do it? You graduated so quickly, it usually takes five years.”

“It was my parents’ last wish for me before they died,” Burr said shortly.

“You're an orphan!” realized Alex. “I'm an orphan too. God, I wish there was an all-out war instead of this hiding and all so we could prove that we're worth more than what they bargained for.” Suddenly, his stomach growled again and he looked down, embarrassed.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Burr offered.

Alex looked up gratefully. “That would be nice.”

“Oh, and Alexander, let me offer you some advice while we're talking. Talk less.”

Frowning, Alex said, “Huh?”

Burr smiled. “Smile more. Don't let people know what you believe.” He gestured for Alex to follow him into the alley, which led to a small side street Alex hadn't seen on any of the maps he had looked at in the University.

“You can't be serious,” he responded to what Burr had said a moment ago.

“Well, you seem to have ambition. You want to get somewhere. And Alexander, fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.”

Alex puzzled over these words. He wasn't sure if they were a friendly warning or a thinly veiled threat. He pushed it out of his mind as he followed Burr through the door into a small, well-lit and homey tavern. There weren't many people and were plenty of empty seats, but Burr led him to a table where three men already were sitting. One of them, his bright, gold-flecked brown eyes sparkling with sudden amusement, said, “Well, if it isn't the prodigy of the University! Aaron Burr, drop some knowledge for us!”

“Laurens,” Burr acknowledged.

One of the other men, a band of dark blue cloth tied around his forehead, glanced over at Alex. “Who's this kid?”

The third man, tall and youthful and carrying a slightly superior, amused air about him, spoke in a foreign accent. “ _ Oui _ , what's he going to do?”

Eagerly, Alex stepped forward. “I'm Alexander Hamilton. I'm gonna get a scholarship to the University...not that I mean to brag, but I've been astonishing everyone since I got to the mainland. I mean, it wasn't easy, I had to holler to even be heard. I guess you could call me a diamond in the rough, really, I got a lot of brains but no polish. I'm gonna join the revolution. I want to fight!” His declaration was met with a few seconds of shocked silence, and he tapped his foot anxiously, regretting his outburst slightly.

Then, the man with the foreign accent, which Alex knew to be French, a language he also knew and spoke fluently, laughed. “ _ Oui _ , my friend. You have come to the right place, for we all are of the revolutionary spirit as well.”

Alex smiled, relieved. “That's good to hear!  _ Monsieur _ ,  _ comment tu t’appelles? _ ”

The man appeared delighted that Alex knew his language. “ _ Je m’appelle _ Lafayette. I came to this land to help the people here overthrow their king, you see.”

The first of the trio to have spoken, who Burr had called Laurens, spoke next. “John Laurens. It's nice to meet you, Alexander.” He held out his hand and Alex shook it warmly. “I'm fighting in the revolution, too. Those redcoats aren't gonna mess with me, I'm gonna fight ‘til we're all free.”

“Hercules Mulligan,” the third man introduced himself. “Tailor’s apprentice with a reputation for being friendly with the ladies.”

“Friendly is a bit of a...how do you say? Understatement,” Lafayette remarked. John Laurens snorted into his mug, and Hercules shrugged modestly.

Alexander sat down in the empty seat next to Laurens. “Tell me more about the revolution,” he requested eagerly. Burr let out a resigned sigh and sank down into the seat next to him.

Lafayette instantly jumped in. “In France, there is great unrest under the monarchy, and that will lead someday to onarchy...how you say? Oh! Anarchy.” Laurens giggled again. Apparently, Lafayette forgetting words in English was an ongoing joke. “I someday will return to France to lead a rebellion there as well, and this one serves as a practice of kind, while also allowing me to help free the people here from the King George.”

Hercules cut in. “I joined the rebellion because it's gonna be my only chance to get anywhere that isn't just sewing some pants in a little tailor’s shop. And, of course, all the freedom from tyranny shit that Laf keeps spitting.”

“Yeah, but we'll never be truly free until we've ended slavery!” exclaimed Laurens. “You just wait, after we win this war, I'm gonna make sure that everyone in bondage has the same rights as anyone else.” Alex found himself nodding vehemently.

“Hey, geniuses,” Burr interrupted. “Listen, I agree with you, but you might want to lower your voices. This whole situation is unstable. If you talk too loudly about the wrong things in the wrong company, you might wind up shot.”

But Alex was too elated to listen to words of caution. “Burr, look who we've got. Monsieur Lafayette, a French revolutionary. Mulligan, you look like you could sew a great pair of pants or shoot a gun, and that's a fine combination of traits. Laurens, I like you a lot! We're a bunch of...of revolutionary abolitionists! Hey, what are the chances we'd all be in the same spot? It's like the gods led us all together.” Alex felt his excitement rise up inside him, and suddenly became worried and tried to calm himself down. But he couldn't, and his voice just rose. “Look, we could lead this revolution ourselves! Hey! Gimme a position and some ammunition and I'll take out all the British myself!” He took a deep breath as he noticed that everyone in the room was staring at him. “Oh. Am I talking too loud?” As the nervousness kept washing over him, he felt what he had really hoped wasn't going to happen begin.

Deep inside his chest, a sharp pain began stabbing at him. He tried desperately to repress it, ignore it, make it go away, but it was too late.

“I'm sorry,” he said quickly. “Listen, I never had a group of friends before, and I…” The pain kept growing, burning. See, this was why he tried to stop himself before he got too passionate about anything. “I promise that I'll make you all proud,” he finished weakly.

His new friends were all looking at him with concern. “Alexander, are you quite alright,  _ mon ami? _ ” inquired Lafayette.

Alex tried to nod. He was starting to panic. What if they all hated him once they found out the truth? Despite everything he had heard about the mainland, and the revolution in particular, being more open minded than the islands, he was terrified. “I'm fine.” The burning in his chest was growing to the point where he knew he would pass out soon. “Well, no,” he gasped. “But this happens. I...I should probably tell you now…” Suddenly, Alex couldn't help but wrap his arms around his chest and double over in pain. He heard everyone gasp, felt someone's hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to sit upright again.

“What's wrong?” Laurens asked worriedly. “Alexander? Answer us!”

As Alex’s mind began spinning, he wondered if it was safe to tell them. In any case, he probably didn't have a choice. It was going to happen eventually. Sure, this was inconvenient, but… “It's my...I have magic,” he blurted. “A second heart. And it broke.”

Another gasp rippled through the table, but Alex couldn't have cared less. Not when the crack in his chest was leaking fire, and his mind whirled and ached and his vision blurred and blacked out. His ears burned until the voices around him faded to nothingness. All he could feel now was the hand still on his shoulder, the chair underneath him, and so much pain that he knew he wasn't going to be awake much longer.

And then even those last few sensations disappeared and Alex fled into blissful unconsciousness, unable to longer feel the pain. Unable to feel anything. His last thought was that he hoped his new friends wouldn't worry too much, but that they wouldn't leave him to die either. He wasn't sure, but he didn't think that they would do the latter. Strange how he had finally found some people he felt like he could trust, only for this to happen. But then even vague thoughts wouldn't form coherently in Alex’s head and he just let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! This story has twenty chapters and is completely finished being written. I'll post one or two chapters every Friday, or more frequently depending on the response I get. I'm really enjoying being a part of this wonderful fandom, and I'm so excited to be contributing more than a few little sketches on tumblr. Speaking of tumblr, come scream with me [here](http://marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com/) about anything and everything. <3 Many thanks for reading, and much love! <3 ~Clare


	2. Chapter Two

“What were his exact words again, John?” a soft voice drifted into the black silence.

“He said, ‘I have magic, a second heart, and it broke.’ Then he passed out.”

Alex recognized that speaker as the kind-eyed, freckled man named John Laurens. Alex tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't quite yet. He tried to figure out where he was, but apart from that he was pretty sure that someone was carrying him or holding him, he couldn't.

“I've never actually seen this before,” the soft voice spoke again. She was a woman, with a gentle and curious tone. Alex wished that he could look at her. She sounded beautiful. “You know that magic comes from the second heart--located on the right side of the chest if a person has it. But that heart can break and make the magic inside unstable and unable to be controlled, which can lead to bouts of pain and illness if the broken person tries to use their magic too much or even, if it's very severe, anytime they get passionate. I've only ever read about it before, though. Hercules, would you bring him over here, please?”

Alex found himself being set down gently onto a soft surface. He let out an involuntary cough, which aggravated the soreness in his chest. He gasped in pain and his eyes flew open. A woman’s face floated into focus above him, round and soft and pretty, brown hair tied back in a bun, intelligent eyes looking down at him kindly. “Why, hello,” she greeted.

“H-hi,” Alex stuttered.

“Your friends have been telling me what happened. It's Alexander, right?”

“Yeah.” Alex tried to sit up, glancing over at his three acquaintances who were watching him concernedly. “You guys didn't have to go to so much trouble, you know.”

Lafayette quirked an eyebrow up. “ _ Mon cher _ , you fainted out of your seat. We couldn't have done nothing, you know.”

“Still.” Alex rubbed the back of his hand over his face.

“Besides, your remark about magic piqued our curiosity,” the Frenchman continued. “Which is why we brought you to Mademoiselle Schuyler here. She knows more about magic than anyone else in the revolution.”

That sent a spark of excitement through Alex’s chest. “You do?” he asked the woman quickly and sat up completely.

She pressed on his shoulder, making him lie back down. “Calm down. Yes, I do. My name is Elizabeth Schuyler. Call me Eliza. You met these three ruffians, yes?”

“Yeah.” Alex let her push him down onto what he had realized was a row of chairs, arranged into a makeshift bed. “Wait--where's Aaron Burr? He was there, too.”

“He had somewhere he needed to be,” Hercules interjected.

“And he figured we could take care of you,” Laurens added. “I'm not sure if he actually had somewhere to be or if he just wanted to get rid of us all. I never can tell with that man. You’re lucky you were with us, though. Not everyone here is as accepting of magic as we are.” A note of bitterness tinged John’s words, but before Alex could figure it out, Eliza spoke.

“Can I ask you about your magic?” she asked.

“Um.” Alex thought quickly. He usually avoided talking about it. His mother had always told him that people would either hate him for it or try to use it. But these people were trustworthy. He could tell. “Okay.”

“How did your second heart break?” inquired Eliza.

Alex felt his hand start to shake, like it always did when he thought about...well. “I…” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “I made some mistakes. I lived on Nevis, and when I was twelve, there was a sickness that swept through all of us. My mother died. She was the only one who knew that I had a second heart--she did, too. And I asked her to stop it, or to teach me how to stop it, because everyone was dying and we had magic, so I thought...But she told me it was too dangerous. Then we got sick and she died, and I...well, I tried to bring her back. That was the first crack.” Surprised at how quickly he was talking once he had started, Alex slowed down. He sat up, and this time Eliza didn’t stop him. “And then I got better, but when the hurricane came, I tried to make that stop, too, because it was destroying the island. I think the first crack made it so much worse...it  _ hurt _ , so badly. I was unconscious for two weeks afterwards.

“I spent the six years after that working. Everyone knew I had the second heart by then, of course. Magic is feared and hated on Nevis, even more so than here. So I tried to get away. I heard about the revolution here, and I decided...this was as good of a shot as any, and I wasn’t going to throw it away. I paid for and worked for my passage here on a ship, made my way to the University. They told me to find Aaron Burr, which led me here...and, that’s all.” Alex stopped talking. He realized then that he had said a bit more than he probably needed to in order to answer Eliza’s question. She didn’t seem to mind, though.

“That’s  _ fascinating _ ,” Eliza exclaimed. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I must sound heartless. I’m sure that must have been hard.”

Alex shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“So you’re only eighteen?” Eliza wondered.

“Nineteen,” Alex corrected. “I had a birthday on the ship.”

“You’re very small,” the woman observed.

“Not a lot to eat on Nevis. But I’m plenty strong,” he defended himself.

She smiled. “I’m sure you are. Can you do  _ any _ magic without passing out?”

Biting his lip, Alex shook his head. “I can’t do  _ anything _ . Any time I get more than a little passionate about something, or excited, or angry, my magic starts trying to leak out and the cracks in my second heart burn, and it’s like I’m on fire on the inside.”

“You’re an extreme case of second heartbreak, then,” Eliza remarked interestedly. “I’ve read about people no longer able to perform large feats of magic, or even some smaller ones, and it’s been theorized that it could go beyond that--there are stories and some incomplete records, rumors, mostly, about people who were broken so badly that it impaired their daily lives. It...I’m sorry. Cases like this usually end in death.”

“Everything ends in death,” replied Alex without thinking. “Life ends in death. I’m not afraid of dying, I’m no stranger to it. I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. And whether it gets me in my sleep, in a battle, or from a failure of my own heart, it will always take me in the end.” He blinked. Everyone was staring at him, wide-eyed. “What?”

“That was dark,  _ mon ami _ ,” Lafayette murmured.

“I just meant...I don’t mind that it’s going to kill me. It’s no big deal,” he tried to explain.

A gentle touch on his shoulder startled him. “Sorry,” John said as Alex flinched. “But, you know...dying  _ is _ a big deal.”

Once again, Alex shrugged. John seemed to take that as Alex wanting him to take his hand away, and he did, to Alex’s disappointment. It had felt nice. “Well, it’s not to me.”

John, Eliza, Lafayette, and Hercules exchanged glances. Some unspoken conversation seemed to be happening, and Alexander felt very out of the loop. John and Eliza then locked eyes and gazed at each other intensely. A tingle started in Alex’s second heart, and he looked away, confused.

Hercules noticed his confusion and whispered to him, “Those two both have a second heart, too, Alexander. They talk without speaking out loud a lot. Laf and I have learned to just let them.” Alex nodded, understanding.

A few seconds later, Eliza nodded sharply, breaking off her eye contact with John. “We can try,” she said reluctantly. “I don’t know exactly what you’re hoping to learn, but...alright.”

“What?” Alex asked.

Eliza turned to him. “Would you be willing to let John and I try to see how far the extent of the damage to your second heart is? We might be able to see if there’s anything we can do to help.”

A tiny flicker of hope welled up inside of Alex. “Oh--okay,” he stumbled. “Um. Okay.”

John stepped towards him and put his hand out as if to place it over the right side of Alex’s chest. “Alright?” he checked.

“That’s okay.”

John’s hand settled over Alex’s second heart, warm and solid. Eliza’s followed. Both of their eyes closed, and Alex followed suit. For some reason, Alex felt nervous, but the anxiousness faded away as a warmth spread through his chest, like his own magic but gentler and more foreign. It didn't hurt, but it was strange. There were two tendrils of the magic, one from each person, and Alex was surprised by how different they felt from each other and from his own.

He lost himself in trying to understand the complexities of the gently pulsing heat that rippled through his chest, until suddenly it withdrew. His eyes snapped open. John and Eliza’s hands were no longer placed on his chest, and he suddenly felt very cold and alone without their magic inside him. He cleared his throat. “Well?” he asked.

There was something in their eyes. Alex thought it might have been pity. “Well, we could tell how badly the second heart’s shell was broken, and…” Eliza’s voice trailed off.

John took over. “And, Alexander, it's  _ shattered _ . You know that the second heart is made of bone encasing the magic core? The bone is barely even holding the energy together.”

Alex had thought as much. “Okay.” He waited for them to say something else, but they didn't. “Can you do anything?” he prompted finally.

“I don't think so,” admitted Eliza. “It's dangerous to extend our magic too deeply into yours, especially when we barely know each other. There is a good chance that your body would reject us because of how unstable your magic is. And with no guarantee that we could even get the bone to knit back together, I would say that the risk is too great. Certainly for now.”

Trying not to show his disappointment, Alex nodded. For all his talk about being unafraid of death, he would have loved to be able to use his magic again without collapsing. “I understand,” he said.

“I'm sorry,” John said softly.

Hercules cleared his throat quietly. “Alexander, do you have somewhere to stay tonight? It's getting late.”

Alex shook his head.

“You can stay with me for a while,  _ mon cher _ , if you wish,” offered Lafayette.

“Thank you,” Alex responded, pleasantly surprised. “That's kind of you.”

“It is no trouble,” smiled the Frenchman. Suddenly, Alex yawned widely. Lafayette laughed. “And it appears we should get you into a bed quickly,  _ mon ami _ . I am sure you are very tired after all that has happened today.”

Alex smiled sheepishly. “Thanks,” he said again. He glanced around. “Where is this place?”

“My house,” Eliza answered. “My sisters are...somewhere. Out and about. Probably in the city. My father is busy. He's a Senator, you know.”

Alex’s mouth dropped open. “Your father is Philip Schuyler?”

Eliza nodded as Alex started yawning again. Then she sighed. “We can talk more tomorrow, okay? You should rest.”

“I've been sleeping on the streets, so I'm used to no rest,” Alexander pointed out.

Lafayette’s hand closed around his shoulder and made him stand up. “All the more reason to get you into a comfortable bed now,  _ mon cher. _ ”

Without further protest, Alex stumbled after Lafayette. “Thank you,” he said to John, Eliza, and Hercules. “For everything. Goodbye!”

John smiled at him. “I'm sure we'll see you again, Alexander.”

“ _ Oui _ , I am positive.” Lafayette ushered Alex out the door of the room, which Alex had gathered to be the dining room, down a few stairs, and out the front door of the house. It was a grand set of double doors, dark mahogany with detailed patterns carved into the edges. Besides some at the University, they were the most beautiful pieces of architecture Alex had ever seen. The house, too, appeared almost to be a castle compared to the rest of the buildings on the street. It was certainly a house befitting a Senator of the revolution. All of the other houses on the dark street were lovely, too, but overshadowed completely by the Schuyler home, which towered high and silhouetted itself against the deep blue sky. The rain had stopped and the clouds had cleared, but the faint, sweet after-scent of rain still lingered. It gave the whole atmosphere the feeling of a fairy tale.

A swift breeze gathered and blew through Alex’s hair, making him shiver under his thin, ragged clothing. Lafayette noticed. “Come,  _ mon ami _ . My home is not far. There we will get you warm,  _ oui _ ? And I am sure you are hungry, too. Come, come.” Lafayette draped his arm around Alex’s shoulders and gently urged him along the cobblestone street, past the grand Schuyler house and the less grand but still beautiful row of other buildings.

Several windows had lights in them, and Alex found himself gazing up at them as he walked. In a few windows, someone sat in the sill, holding a book or a pen, or talking to someone in the room though they couldn’t be seen. It made Alex wonder about all of the people living in the houses, and how each one of them had their own story, unique and complex and sad and brilliant. He got lost in thought, imagining lives for each of the people he saw the shadows of behind the curtains. So he was very startled when Lafayette grabbed his hand to stop him walking further.

“ _ Mon cher _ , I stopped walking ten paces ago,” Lafayette laughed. “Why are you continuing to walk?”

Embarrassed, Alex turned around. “Sorry. I got lost in thought.”

“ _ Oui _ , I could tell. This house is mine.”

Alex followed him up the the door of a two-story home, painted pale blue with black trimming. “It’s lovely,” he said.

Lafayette pulled a key out of his pocket and opened the door. Alex blinked at the thick red carpeting and elegant furniture. The Frenchman stepped in, picked up a match from a small table, and lit a lantern. It cast flickering shadows along the pale walls, long strips of shade on the side of a line of paintings framed with gold and black. “ _ Bienvenue _ ,  _ mon ami _ ,” Lafayette greeted as Alex took a wondering step over the threshold. Lafayette laughed at Alex’s dumbfounded expression. “It does not look quite as grand from the outside, does it?”

“N-no,” Alex fumbled. He stared at the paintings. They were beautiful, portraits and landscapes of people and places he did not recognize. The front room of this house was larger and more richly furnished than the entire house he had lived in with his mother on Nevis.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Alex shook his head quickly, shaking himself out of memories.

Lafayette patted his shoulder. “Follow me, Alexander.” He led Alex through the front room, down a hallway with two closed doors on either side, and into a parlour. “Wait here,  _ mon ami _ . I will be right back. Sit down, there.”

Alex sat down on the edge of a chair, trying not to touch the cushion for fear of getting any of the dust and dirt he had accumulated on his clothing over the past few days on the clean fabric.

Lafayette paused on his way out of the room. “Do not worry, make yourself comfortable.” Then he was gone.

Alex shifted his weight on the seat uncomfortably. He didn’t feel like he belonged in this room, with its fancy furniture and sophisticated decor. Suddenly, a pang of homesickness for a home that was long gone swept over him. He blinked quickly, chasing away the tears that had surprised him with their appearance. He had to pull himself together.

A few minutes later, Lafayette announced his presence at the door with a loud declaration of, “I have food,  _ mon ami _ ! And warm clothes for you, though I fear they may be too big.  _ Mon cher _ , are you okay?”

Alex tried to smile. “I'm alright. Thanks.”

Lafayette came over to him, holding a bundle of clothes in one hand and a plate with a couple pieces of bread on it. “Here you are,  _ mon ami _ . I thought something light would be better so soon before bedtime.”

“Thank you,” repeated Alex.

“No worries.” Lafayette smiled and sat down in a seat opposite of Alex. “And I brought clothes for you when you are done eating.”

Alex nodded gratefully. His mouth was already full of the bread, which was delicious. He had forgotten how hungry he was until now, and he knew that Lafayette was chuckling to himself about how fast the bread was disappearing.

“Slow down, my friend.  _ Mon Dieux _ , but you eat like a lion; like you have not tasted food in days!” he exclaimed.

Swallowing the large mouthful of bread with difficulty, Alex answered in a somewhat muffled voice, “I haven't.”

Lafayette’s amused expression turned somber. “Oh. I am sorry for teasing you,  _ mon ami _ . I did not know.”

Alex shrugged. “It's okay. Really, it is,” he added when Lafayette looked unconvinced. “I'll try to eat slower.”

Lafayette waved his hand immediately. “No, eat as quickly as you wish! Just do not make yourself ill,  _ mon cher _ . Would you like a cup of tea? I'll be right back.” Without waiting for Alex to respond, he dropped the bundle of clothing onto his chair and rushed off down the hall to where Alex assumed the kitchen was located.

By the time he returned, Alexander had finished the two slices of bread on the plate. He found himself half wishing for another, but his stomach was already hurting a little after not having anything in it for three days and then suddenly being stuffed with bread. Lafayette must have anticipated this, for he returned only with two cups of tea and no more food.

“Thank you,” Alex said, accepting the hot beverage. It had a little sugar in it, which he appreciated. The two young men drank their tea in silence, and Alex found that he could barely keep his eyes open. It was warm in Lafayette’s house, and he wasn't hungry for the first time in ages. Lafayette set his cup aside and stood up.

“I believe it is time for  _ mon petit lion _ to find himself in bed,” he suggested gently.

Alex raised his eyebrows tiredly. “ _ Mon petit lion _ ?” he echoed.

“It means--”

“It know what it means,” laughed Alex. “ _ Je parle François, aussi,  _ Lafayette.”

“ _ Bien sûr _ ,” Lafayette acknowledged. “ _ J'ai oublié _ ,  _ mon cher. _ But truly, you look very tired. Follow me, I will show you where you may sleep.”

Alex glanced at his empty cup.

“I will take care of it,” Lafayette reassured him. “Just set it down on the table.”

Alex did so, and the satisfying clink of porcelain against wood reminded him again how far away he was from everything he had ever known.

Down the hallway they walked, and up the narrow, twisting staircase to the second floor. Lafayette opened a door to a room that smelled faintly of dust and gestured for Alex to step inside. “This room does not see much use,” he said. “I do not often have company...company that uses a second bedroom.”

Alex took a second to understand what Lafayette meant, and then blushed a little, laughing. “Oh.”

Lafayette winked at him. “Here are some comfortable clothes. I apologize again for the size. You are, pardon me, very small, and I have nothing that would fit you.”

Taking the bundle of clothes, Alex nodded. “Thank you so much, Monsieur Lafayette. You are being so kind, for no reason other than the goodness of your heart. Thank you.”

Lafayette smiled happily. “It is no trouble,” he insisted. “Any supporter of the revolution is a friend of mine,  _ oui _ ? So you are my friend, and friends must help each other, must they not?”

“I suppose you are right,” conceded Alex. “Goodnight!”

“Sleep well,  _ mon petit lion _ .” 

Laughing a little at the nickname, which apparently was going to stick, Alex closed the door and turned towards the rest of the room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a candle on the bedside table with a box of matches next to it. Lighting the candle, he looked around at the bedroom. It was beautiful: not furnished as lavishly as the rest of the house seemed to be although the floor was covered in the same thick, soft, red carpet as the rest of the house. The soft looking bed was topped with a blue and red quilt and several pillows. On the other side of the room stood a tall wardrobe. Candle in hand, Alex wandered over to it and opened it. It was empty and smelled of mothballs and dust and old woodstain, so he closed it again. Walking back over to the bed, he placed the candle on the bedside table and opened the little drawer on its side. Empty again. Of course, this was a spare room. There was no reason for there to be anything other than a bed and wardrobe.

Alex undressed, carefully folded up his worn shirt and breeches, placed them in a neat stack on the table next to the candle, and began putting on the clothes that Lafayette had given him. He had been right in his prediction that they would be too big for Alex, but they were comfortable. Yawning, Alex pulled back the quilt and sheet on the bed and slipped between the covers. He thought it might just have been the most comfortable bed he had ever had the privilege to lay in, and felt himself drifting off almost instantly. Sleepily, he rolled over and blew out the candle. The candle flame left a soft blue outline leftover in Alex’s vision that burned brighter as he closed his eyes until that, too, faded and disappeared, and Alex fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, one or two chapters every Friday! <3 ~Clare


	3. Chapter Three

“Alexander? Alexander,  _ mon ami _ , it is morning.”

Slowly, Alex sat up, pushing the quilt back. It took him a second to remember everything that had happened the day before. There was another knock at his door. “I’m awake,” he mumbled.

“Wonderful! I have left some clothing out here for you. I will be downstairs, I am going to make breakfast. Today I thought we could look about, how do you say, enlisting you in the revolution. Come downstairs when you are ready and we can talk,” Lafayette finished.

“Mmkay,” answered Alex, rubbing his eyes.

Lafayette laughed. “But take enough time to wake up properly, first.”

Alex was about to argue, but then he yawned and thought better of it. “Okay.”

“I will see you in a few minutes!” There was a pattering of quick footsteps as Lafayette headed down the hallway away from the spare room.

Stretching and rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Alex clambered out of bed. He felt less tired than he had in...as long as he could remember. He’d had no dreams and it was long after dawn from the amount of light shining through the window. He had slept better than he had in ages.

Alex stumbled over to the door, opened it, and picked up the bundle of clothes Lafayette had left there. As he dressed, he realized that he probably looked a bit ridiculous. The sleeves of the shirt fell two inches past the tips of his fingers, the edge of the shirt went to the middle of his thighs, and the breeches that should end just below his knee fell all the way to his ankles. He twisted his hair up into a messy knot on the top of his head and went downstairs.

“ _ Bonjour _ !” greeted Lafayette. He had his back turned to Alex, busy placing two plates on the table in the dining room. As he turned around to look at Alex, he burst out laughing. “Oh! Oh, I am sorry. Oh, you look ridiculous,  _ mon cher _ ! I am sorry.”

Rolling his eyes, Alexander decided to just play along and plastered a hurt look on his face. “I look ridiculous? What do you mean? I thought I looked wonderful.”

“You are  _ drowning _ in my clothes!”

Alex pouted. “I think I wear them better than you do.”

Lafayette threw his head back and laughed even harder. “ _ Oui _ ,  _ mon ami _ , you wear them better than I would wear yours, but you look to be a child playing dress-up.”

“Uh!” Alex sputtered. “We’re the same age! Aren’t we?”

“Alex,  _ mon ami _ , you are older than me by a year,” he admitted.

Alex was taken aback. “Really?”

“ _ Oui _ , I am eighteen years.” Lafayette held up a finger to tell Alex to wait a minute as he went through a small door in the side of the room. Alex assumed that was the kitchen. His assumption was confirmed when Lafayette walked back through with a plate of breads and a jar of jam. “Breakfast!” he announced.

Alex sat down quickly at the table. Lafayette joined him. After eating several pieces of bread (with a healthy amount of jam), Alex remembered that Lafayette had said something earlier about enlisting in the revolution that day. “You mentioned the revolution this morning?” Alex asked after finishing yet another jam-soaked piece of bread.

“Ah,  _ oui _ . I thought we could go to the Assembly today, for you to see what it is really like. You know there is not truly much fighting, yes? It is not all guns and glory,” Lafayette reminded him.

Alex nodded dismissively. “I understand. What is the Assembly?”

“We are trying to create a new government, Alexander. There is a lot of conversation that must take place first, and there are those who don't think that America should leave England anyway. But if you wish to come, you will see for yourself, no? Are you finished?” The Frenchman gestured at Alex’s plate, practically licked clean, changing the subject abruptly.

“Um, yes,” Alex answered. “ _ When _ is the Assembly?”

“In a few hours,  _ mon ami _ . Be patient. We will meet up with the ones you met yesterday, if that is alright with you. Hercules and John are who I speak of.”

“I figured. Sure, that sounds great.” Alex couldn't help turning slightly pink at the thought of seeing John Laurens again. That young man had captured his attention and curiosity with his sparkling eyes and glowing magic.

If Lafayette noticed, he didn't say anything. Instead, he stood up quickly and clapped his hands twice dramatically. “Hand me your plate, then,  _ mon ami _ , and we will be on our way. Perhaps later we can ask Hercules if he could fit you clothes that are not two times as large as you need.”

Alex laughed, handing Lafayette his plate. “That might be nice.”

“Although I will admit you look adorable,  _ mon petit lion _ . Not grown into your mane yet, but…”

Glaring playfully, Alex growled, “Don't forget that I'm older than you.”

“ _ Oui _ , in years. But in inches, I have you defeated.” Without another word, Lafayette turned on his heel and sauntered off into the kitchen.

“That doesn't even make sense,” Alex called after him. “You can't be older than someone in inches.”

Nothing but a “Hmph!” could be heard from the kitchen, and Alex snorted. He was surprised by how much affection he already held towards the young Frenchman, despite only having met him the day before. Alex had never really had friends--he was always too busy either hiding his magic or working. Often it was the case that nobody wanted anything to do with a magical person, either.

But the people here seemed genuinely not to mind. They were kind and understanding and joked around with him like he was the same as anyone else. That was a new feeling, and it almost frightened him. He didn’t want to disappoint his new friends.

Lafayette reappeared at the entrance to the kitchen. “Well,  _ mon ami _ , we will go now, yes? We have much to do this morning.”

Alex stood up quickly and pushed his chair back in. “I left my boots upstairs, I’ll be right back,” he remembered, and rushed away. While he was upstairs, he pulled the covers up on the bed and sat down for a minute. He closed his eyes and touched the palm of his hand to the right side of his chest, pressing hard. “Behave,” he whispered to his second heart. He stayed like that for a little while, begging his magic to be calm and let him have just one day without an incident.

“Alexander, are you coming-- _ mon ami,  _ are you okay? Is your magic bothering you?” Lafayette had come into the room without Alex noticing, and was rushing up to where Alex was sitting. As Alex opened his eyes quickly, Lafayette cupped his hand around Alex’s cheek and made him look up. “Are you alright?” he said again.

“I'm okay,” Alex said. Lafayette didn't seem convinced. “Really, I'm good. I'm ready to go.” He stood up, brushing Lafayette’s hand away.

“If you are sure,” Lafayette said reluctantly, “then we can go. But tell me if you feel bad,  _ oui _ ?”

“Thanks.”

Lafayette led the way down the stairs and out the front door. The street looked very different in the daytime. There were actually people standing in front of their houses, chatting amiably with their neighbors and friends, and the sunlight glaring off the rooftops gave the street a friendlier air than the misty, dark storybook aura of the night before. “It is not far,  _ mon petit lion _ ,” Lafayette said, “it is but a few streets away.”

“That's fine...where are we going?” Alex had to ask.

“Ah,  _ oui _ , I forgot you do not know our habits. It seems like you have already been here for weeks,  _ mon ami _ .” Lafayette smiled good-naturedly. “We are going to Hercules’ tailor shop. There we will attempt to get you some more fitting clothes, and after, we will go to the Assembly.”

Alex nodded absently. He had gotten distracted watching a young couple arguing. A woman stood just inside a doorway, her lover just outside. He was trying to convince her of something, but she laughed in his face and closed the door.  _ Good for you _ , Alex thought. The man knocked a few times at the door and then sat down on the doorstep with a heavy sigh. Alex almost laughed, but then he and Lafayette rounded the corner of the street and the man and door were out of sight.

A minute later, Alex almost tripped over a small tabby cat that came darting out from a bush into the street right into his pathway. A young boy came running after it, making clicking noises with his tongue. The child paid no heed to Alexander and Lafayette and nearly smacked straight into both of them on his exuberant pursuit of the elusive kitten.

“I do not know if I should hope that the boy catches the cat, or that the cat remains free,” Lafayette remarked as the boy ran out of earshot.

“Oh, I’m cheering for the cat, personally,” Alex quipped back.

Laughing, Lafayette nodded. “I have to agree,  _ mon ami _ .”

A few minutes later, Alex began to recognize some of the buildings he had seen the previous night. And indeed, he spotted the place he had found Aaron Burr, the alley next to the tailor’s shop. Only now did Alexander realize that the shop was probably where Hercules had his apprenticeship.

“Here we are!” Lafayette announced happily.

“This was where Burr was,” Alex informed him.

Lafayette sighed. “ _ Oui _ , he always is annoyed when Hercules leaves the shop. It is supposed to be a meeting place for the Children of Liberty, and Burr is very strict about following...how do you say? Procedure, that is it. And there is always supposed to be someone at the shop in case something important happens. But nothing important ever happens, so Hercules does not always keep his post, and Burr replaces him with grudge.”

“Grudgingly,” Alex corrected without thinking. “Sorry.”

“Ah, thank you,  _ mon cher _ . I can speak English well, but not perfectly, as you can see. Please feel free to correct me, as there is always more a person can learn, and learning can come from the most unlikely sources,  _ non _ ?” For all he said about not speaking perfect English, he certainly spoke  _ quickly _ . Alex found that he was sometimes bewildered by the speed at which Lafayette delivered his several sentence long declarations, so he just nodded along. The Frenchman opened the door to the shop, ushering Alex inside in front of him.

Alex stepped through the door into a small, cluttered room that smelled of fresh cloth and stale tea. Wooden coat-racks hung with displays of finished work lined the front of the room, shelves of fabric formed a veritable maze in the center, and a worn old desk covered with bits of paper, tools, and scraps of cloth sat in the corner. It seemed to be completely empty, but a disembodied, muffled voice called out a few seconds later.

“Lafayette, that you?”

“ _ Oui _ , Hercules. It's me,” Lafayette replied as he closed the door.

“Did you bring the kid?” Suddenly, Hercules Mulligan popped up from behind the desk, his chin just level with the top of the desk like he was kneeling. “Oh, yeah. You did.”

Alexander wondered if he should be offended about being called a kid, especially after the revelation that he was, in fact, older than Lafayette. But he decided it wasn't worth getting upset about. “Hello!” he greeted.

“Hey, Alexander!” called another voice from right next to Hercules. Alex was shocked to recognize John Laurens, and looked around for him.

Lafayette laughed at his confusion. “John,  _ mon ami _ , show yourself. You are confusing our poor friend.”

“I can't,” John protested. “Herc’s big ass is in the way.”

Alex frowned. He was even more bewildered now.

Rolling his eyes, Hercules stood up and stepped to the side. A few seconds later, John appeared exactly where the other man had been a moment ago. “Hi, Alexander!”

“What the…” Alex muttered.

Lafayette led him over to the desk as John and Hercules shared an amused look. As soon as Alex could see behind the desk, he realized that there was a trapdoor in the floor that must lead down to a sort of basement. John was standing on one of the top rungs of the ladder connecting the two levels. Alex stared.

“It's a safehouse,” explained John. “The Children of Liberty can hide here if we were ever under attack, or sleep here if they need a place to stay.”

“ _ Oui _ , and it makes an excellent place to sit and talk,” interjected Lafayette. “So let us go down and do that, for I am sure that Alex has many questions about the Assembly and about the revolution.”

John dropped down out of sight. “Come on, then!” he called brightly.

Tentatively, Alex stepped over towards the trapdoor. Lafayette nodded encouragingly, and he started down the ladder. He was cautious at first, thinking that there might be splinters in the rungs. However, the planks of wood were sanded smooth. He moved more confidently after he realized that, and leapt down the last couple of bars, landing lightly on his feet. A single lantern lit the enclosed space, sitting on a table in the middle of the room. There was an old sofa, too. John had sat down already. Lafayette and Hercules had followed Alex, and were now near the bottom of the ladder behind him. Lafayette prodded his shoulder lightly. “Alex,  _ mon ami _ , you are blocking our way,” he said gently.

“Oh, sorry!” Alex jumped to the side and watched the two men join John on the couch. All three watched him expectantly, but he didn’t move.

“You can join us, you know,” Hercules pointed out finally.

“Right,” Alex realized. Hesitantly, he went over and sat at the very edge of the sofa, between Lafayette and the cushion on the arm.

Lafayette was leaning onto Hercules’ shoulder so he could look at Alex. Hercules rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. “So, my friend, you wish to join our revolutionary cause,” the Frenchman began formally.

Alex nodded, suddenly self-conscious.

“You know it’s really not safe for someone with a broken second heart, right?” John asked.

Irritated, Alex shrugged. “I don’t care.”

Lafayette clicked his tongue. “ _ Oui _ , we have gathered as much.”

“I want to fight,” Alex insisted. “I want to join the Children of Liberty, I want to fight under General Washington, I want to free this country.” He could feel his heart starting to beat faster and closed his eyes, taking a practiced deep breath, then another, then another. “Sorry,” he murmured, opening his eyes again. All three faces looking back at him were concerned. He brushed it off with a quick, “I’m okay,” then went right back into what he was saying before. “I’m never going to be able to do anything else that’s useful in my life, so I might as well die fighting for a cause I believe in,” finished Alex strongly.

“That sounds noble enough, but wouldn’t you rather live for a cause you believe in?” asked Hercules sensibly.

“I’m not going to live very long no matter what I do.” With that quiet acknowledgement, Alex dropped his gaze downwards.

A few seconds passed. “Okay,” John said eventually.

Alex looked up. “Okay what?”

“Okay, you can join us,  _ mon ami _ ,” clarified Lafayette.

“Really?” Alex squeaked. He cleared his throat. “Just like that?”

“Who are we to tell you no?” Hercules replied.

“Besides, I believe that General Washington will like you,” Lafayette added. “You have a way with words, it seems. You are very clever.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, surprised.

Hercules started laughing. “Yeah, I can't wait for the Assembly today. Oh, you’re gonna start going off at Seabury, that should be entertaining.”

“Seabury?” asked Alex.

John jumped in to explain quickly. His expressive face held a mixture of humor and irritation, his freckled nose wrinkled in something that might have been distaste. “Samuel Seabury, the most persistent and idiotic anti-revolutionary in the city. He says the exact same thing at every Assembly. Everyone has basically learned to ignore him, but…”

Lafayette coughed. “ _ Non _ ,  _ we  _ have learned to ignore him. But he holds a lot of power over the less...shall we say, less intelligent crowds.”

“Stupid people love listening to stupidity. It makes them feel smarter,” John said quietly.

“Amen,” Alex laughed.

Hercules had been eyeing Alex strangely. “Lafayette, is he wearing your clothes?” he asked suddenly.

“Oh!  _ Oui _ , our Alex does not have any fitting clothes besides what he was wearing yesterday,” Lafayette explained “We were hoping you could fit him?”

“Sure. Can he pay?”

Alex groaned and buried his face in his hands. Hercules got the message.

“Eh, that's okay. Children of Liberty get a pretty big discount from me anyway, and you'll get a uniform for free. Don't worry about it, kid.” The tailor reached behind Lafayette, nudging him out of the way to pat Alex’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you,” mumbled Alex.

“No worries. You're so small, it won't take much fabric to cover you anyway,” Hercules joked. Alex rolled his eyes but laughed along. “C’mon, kid. Let's go back up and get you some clothes.”

Half an hour and a lot of measurement later, Hercules told Alex that he would have the clothes ready in a few days, but he'd have to keep wearing Lafayette’s until then.

“I don't want to bother him any longer, I should try to find someplace to stay on my own,” Alex thought out loud.

“Are you kidding? You're not bothering the man, he's been living alone there for two years, ever since he came to America. He's lonely. I promise, he enjoys having you there. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's adopted you,” Hercules snorted. “Which means by default, John and I have, too. We don't mind, though. John likes you. And I like Laf, so I'll put up with you.” The tailor winked so Alex understood that he was kidding.

“How is it that he’s  _ adopting _ me?” Alex protested. “I’m older than him.”

Hercules shrugged. “I dunno, kid. It happens to the best of us. John and I are both older, too. He adopted us as well. He’s just that kind of person. I mean, he basically adopted the General. Or the General adopted him, we’re not sure.”

“Will the General be at the Assembly?” Alex asked eagerly.

“Hah, we wish. No, he’s busy. Rumor is that the real fighting is gonna break out sometime in the next few days, so he’s down South trying to figure that out.”

All of the sudden, the trapdoor opened and Lafayette called, “Are you finished? Because it is time for the Assembly.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get Laurens up here and we can go,” Hercules replied.

Lafayette glanced down at the room below him. “He is asleep.”

Hercules laughed. “Well, wake him up.”

“Wasn’t asleep, dunno what you’re talking about,” a sleepy mumble drifted up.

“Of course you weren’t,  _ mon cher _ ,” Lafayette told him sympathetically.

Hercules raised his eyebrows. “At least him taking a nap now means he won’t fall asleep during the Assembly...again,” he told Alex in an exaggerated whisper.

“That was  _ one time _ ,” John complained.

Lafayette gave him a hand over the edge of the trapdoor and pulled him up into the room. “Did you not sleep well again,  _ mon ami _ ?”

John shrugged. “Do I ever?”

“I’m gonna take that as a no,” Hercules said. “Writing again?”

“Letter from my father,” John muttered. “He won’t listen to me. Still.”

Alexander, who had been fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt and trying to fold them up so they didn’t look comically long, paused. “What are you trying to convince him of?” he asked.

Sighing, John explained. “He’s a slave owner.”

“Ohhh,” Alex understood. “Well. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Clearly trying to change the subject, Lafayette said, “Well, we should be on our way. We wouldn’t want to be late.”

“Yeah,” agreed John shortly. He headed out the door. Alex shot a questioning look at Hercules, wondering why John had brushed the topic off so quickly, but the tailor just shook his head and followed John out into the street.

Alex had to walk quickly to keep up with the longer strides of the other three, but he didn’t mind. The sun was bright, the air was cool, he was joining the revolution, and he had friends. It was honestly the best day he’d had in...forever. And so far, his second heart hadn’t given him any trouble. He wasn’t even thinking about it for the most part, although he kept wanting to ask John about  _ his _ experience with magic. Besides his mother, he had never met someone else with magic until John and Eliza. He was curious.

Speeding up, he slipped past Hercules and fell into step beside John. They continued to walk along the edge of the dusty, cobbled street for a few silent seconds before John spoke. “Sorry for snapping a little while ago.”

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t really like talking about my father.”

“That’s okay. I don’t like talking about mine, either.” Alex paused. “I mean, I barely remember him. He left me and my mother because he was too deep in debt and wanted out. I don’t know what happened to him, but I assume he died. Even if he didn’t, he’s not really my father anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” John said sincerely. “Mine has basically disowned me for being abolitionist.”

“At least you two are estranged because  _ you _ are morally superior,” Alex pointed out.

“Morally superior,” John laughed. “That’s an interesting phrase.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I agree with you there. Slavery is wrong.”

“Yes, definitely. I saw plenty of it on Nevis, the trade goes right through the port there.” Alex shuddered. “I don’t even like thinking about some of the things I saw back then. The past is…”

“The past is always unpleasant,” supplied John. “Let’s talk about the future instead.”

Alex felt his heart flutter at the young man’s suggestion. “What do you mean?”

“After the revolution. Assuming we win. What do you want to do?”

“After…” Alex knew that the first thing he had thought to say wouldn’t be very well received. “I don’t know,” he said instead.

“Nothing?” John checked.

Alex glanced up and met his eyes. “I probably won’t be there to see an ‘after’ the revolution, John.”

John fell silent for a moment. “You know,” he began slowly, “for all that Eliza said about a broken second heart being fatal, I see something else in you. You’re strong. I think you’re gonna make it.” He smiled slightly. “I think you’re gonna make it.”

Something warm welled up inside of Alex. He was frightened for a second, but it didn’t come from his second heart. It wasn’t his magic. It was just...pride. Hope. The fact that this man, who barely knew him and certainly had no reason to think he was strong, believed in him made him almost swell with pride. “Thank you,” he said, realizing he had been gazing up at John without saying anything for several seconds.

Laughing a little, John replied, “No problem. You’re gonna do great things. I can see it already.”

“Now, is that a prediction based on your magic or just honeyed words meant to make me feel better?” Alex half-joked.

“A little bit of both,” responded John.

“Wait, your magic actually works like that?” Alex asked, confused.

“Um, yeah, a little. I get feelings about people, or feel what they feel sometimes. I’m not very good at the whole ‘manipulating the environment’ thing that Eliza says most magic is like. That’s what she’s got. She can move things around without touching them, light them on fire by just thinking it. It can be kinda scary, actually. But she’s usually super sweet and kind, she’s only scary when someone is either being an idiot, cruel, or rude to either one of us--” John gestured vaguely behind him and Alex at the other two revolutionaries, “--or her sisters.”

“Sisters?”

“Haha, yeah. Angelica and Peggy. Neither of them was born with a second heart, but they’re great. I’m sure you’ll meet them eventually.”

Alex frowned. “Will any of the Schuylers be at the Assembly?”

“Unfortunately, women aren’t allowed.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

John grinned. “I know. You should hear Angelica shouting about it, it’s kinda funny. We’re working on changing that, but...the people in charge of the colony are kinda stupid. And since the Children of Liberty aren’t actually officially recognized under the law, our meetings, unless we make them secret, which is hard when they’re so large, have to be under the disguise of being a neutral place where people can debate. Which means the colony technically runs it. And that’s why idiots like Seabury can keep showing up again and again and harass us.”

“I can’t wait to debate with him,” Alex said unthinkingly.

Bumping his elbow into Alex’s shoulder, John laughed. “Just be careful that you don’t end up getting so pissed off that you pass out again. You definitely have magic that gets worked up during confrontation more than anything else, which is why I think that fighting in a war isn’t the best idea for you.”

“You’re not talking me out of fighting,” Alex responded without hesitation.

“I figured. I’ll stop trying if you want me to, but I like you a lot. I don’t want your death on my conscious because I couldn’t convince you something was a bad idea.”

“John, I  _ thrive _ on bad ideas.”

“You know, I’ve known you for less than a full day, and I already knew that,” laughed John. “But in all seriousness, don’t pick a fight with Seabury. He’s not worth it.”

“I’ll try.” But Alex was already forming his arguments against any anti-revolutionary bullshit Seabury might start spewing.

He had been so focused on his conversation with John that he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. He now noticed that they had left the most heavily populated part of the city behind them and were walking down a dirt road lined with scrappy, halfway leafless bushes. Scraggly weeds sprouted up in the center of the road, in some places trodden down by the clear remnants of hoofprints. There were some small houses scattered off in the distant countryside and some little farms designed to feed a family as opposed to garner a profit. Somewhere in the distance, a horse neighed. The smell of smoke from someone’s chimney tingled in Alex’s nose as he looked up at the cloudless sky.

“How far is it? And where exactly are we going?” he asked.

“We keep walking for about another mile. See that little hill, over there?” John pointed out the distant slope. “The Assembly is right behind that hill.”

“ _ Oui _ , it is not even as far as it looks,” Lafayette cut in suddenly from where he was walking behind them. “We will be there before midday, which is when the Assembly starts.”

“Who else is going to be there?” Alex wondered.

“Well, Burr will be,” Hercules answered. “You won’t know any of the other names. It’s not supposed to be a huge turnout today, apparently. I’m not actually sure what we’re supposed to be talking about. It’s probably gonna shape up to be a giant waste of our time.”

“But a learning experience for  _ le petit lion _ ,” Lafayette reminded him.

“ _ Le  _ what now?” John giggled.

Alexander groaned. “He...well. He decided that he was gonna call me the little lion. Don’t ask me why.”

“Because you  _ are _ ,  _ mon ami _ ! You are small and fierce, just like a lion.”

“I dunno, it kinda fits,” John pondered.

“Please don’t you start, too!” Alex protested.

John smiled at him. “Okay, little lion.”

“Hmph.” Alex rolled his eyes.

Lafayette was pouting. “It sounds better in  _ franꞔais _ .”

“I’m sure it does,” Hercules consoled him condescendingly. Lafayette just shot him a glare, to which Hercules smiled benignly.

“ _ Bâtard _ ,” Lafayette muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I don’t speak baguette,” Hercules teased.

Lafayette crossed his arms huffily, shoved Hercules to the side of the road, and quickened his pace until he had passed John and Alex and was walking sulkily with his chin pointed determinedly up.

“This happens at least twice a day,” John whispered to Alex.

Alex was trying not to giggle. “Good,” he whispered back.

Lafayette had been right--the hill wasn’t as far away as it looked. It only took about ten more minutes to walk there. When Alex saw the building on the other side of the hill, he almost gasped. It was not at all what he had imagined. It reminded him more of the University than anything else he had ever seen. Its red brick walls were topped with a sweeping roof and a towering spire, and the surrounding grounds were littered with trees. A white doorway, arched and peaked, adorned the front of the building. Three arching windows yawned over the door in a perfectly symmetrical row, while another two sat on either side of the door. With a grand gesture towards the building, Lafayette announced, “Carpenter’s Hall!”

“I think we might be a bit late,” John said nervously. “It’s past midday.”

“Oh, well,” Hercules said dismissively. “Maybe we lucked out and missed Seabury’s rant.”

“Oh. I was looking forward to our Alex debating with him,” Lafayette sighed.

Hercules nudged Lafayette sympathetically. “Well, there’s still a chance.”

“You shouldn’t be encouraging him to pick fights!” John protested. “What happened last night could very well happen again.”

Alex shrugged. “Well, we’ll see. It usually doesn’t happen two days in a row.”

John was unconvinced. “Well, anyway, be careful, Alexander.”

“I will be,” Alex promised.

The four revolutionaries made their way across the dusty expanse of grass, weeds, soil, and stones to the entrance of the Hall. Lafayette led the way in.

“You three are late,” a disappointed, admonishing voice greeted them.

“ _ Oui _ , we apologize,  _ Monsieur  _ Monroe.”

“Who's the kid?”

Alex had been looking around. About thirty men were sitting or standing in the room. When he heard the muttered query, he looked up defiantly. “Alexander Hamilton,” he said.

“He's joining the Children of Liberty,” John defended him.

“He looks like he's fourteen,” someone laughed.

“ _ Oui _ , Madison, and so do you,” Lafayette retorted. Alex eyed the man who had spoken. Lafayette wasn't wrong, Madison was just about the same size as Alex.

“I'm nineteen. And I'm joining the revolution. And I'm probably smarter than half the people in this room put together.” Alex glared out at the small crowd, almost daring them to say something.

But Madison just shrugged. “Alright.”

Lafayette took a seat on the edge of a table, making half the room sigh resignedly. “Who is speaking?” he asked.

“I was  _ trying _ ,” interjected another man.

From the quiet groan that rose up from everybody and the knowing look that John, Hercules, and Lafayette shared, Alex wondered if the man was Seabury.

“Go on, then, Seabury,” someone sighed. “Get it over with.”

Seabury cleared his voice importantly. “My name is Samuel Seabury,” he announced. “And I am here to present Free Thought at the Colonial Assembly.”

Hercules leaned over towards Alex. “Tear him apart,” he murmured.

“The rabble that screams revolution must not be heeded! They do not have the interest of the masses at their heart, they only want personal gain and fame. The chaos and bloodshed that will come with a rebellion is not the solution! The majority of this Assembly disagrees with me, they do not speak for me.”

Alex was starting to get angry. This man didn't understand at  _ all _ what the revolution was about. He could see that John was thinking the same thing as he was, but Hercules leaned over to John and whispered, “Let him be for now.”

“They're playing a dangerous game!” proclaimed Seabury. “When the violence begins, the King's army will crush the disloyal minority. For your sakes, I pray the King will show you mercy. For shame!”

The disdainful ending remark was what set Alex over the edge. “Oh, yeah? I hear how you unravel at the sound of screams, but the revolution IS coming,” he retorted loudly. “The revolutionaries may be have-nots currently, but we’re gonna win this. You know, it’s hard to listen to you with a straight face. You say chaos and bloodshed--”

“Are not the solution!” Seabury insisted.

“--Already haunt us!” countered Alexander. “Honestly, you shouldn’t even talk. What about what happened in Boston? All the lives we’ve lost? And you’re still talking about the Assembly, with less eloquence than a dog, even if your mange is the same.” Suppressed laughter rippled through the people in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex thought he saw his new friends looking at him proudly. Alex pressed on, uncomfortably aware that his chest was starting to feel warmer. A twinge of pain from his second heart startled him as he kept talking, “And as for the King showing us mercy, well, he’s in England, not Jersey.”

“For shame!” Seabury sputtered, taken aback by the ferocity of Alex’s attack.

“For the revolution!” cried Alex.

“The rabble that screams revolution--”

Alex stood up frustratedly, knowing that getting this upset wasn’t a good idea but unable to stop himself. “If you repeat yourself,  _ I’m  _ going to scream.”

“But--I…” Seabury’s voice trailed off and he took a step back meekly.

“Oh, come on! You say all that then don’t debate with me?” Alex mocked. “Hey, answer me! Why should a tiny island across the sea regulate the price of our tea?” Alex was suddenly distracted by the fact that the heat from his second heart was spreading to well up behind his eyes and in the tips of his fingers and his palms.

A quiet, sharp gasp came from John sitting next to him. “Alex?” he said worriedly.

From across the room, Aaron Burr spoke for the first time that day. “Alexander, please,” he said smoothly. “We don’t need to turn this into a fight.”

Alexander whirled around to face him. “Well, I’d rather be divisive than indecisive or to let him keep shitting on our cause. Drop your niceties!” he ended loudly, smacking the palm of his hand down onto a nearby table.

A cry rang out simultaneously from several people in the room. Alex looked down dazedly. He lifted his hand off the table to reveal a smoking, scorched handprint. His skin was red. As he watched, a few flames flickered across his fingers.

“Alexander?” Lafayette whispered.

His second heart was on fire. It hurt so badly that Alex couldn’t breathe. Then his knees gave out and he sunk to the ground as dark spots encompassed his vision and his ears started ringing until nothing else could be heard. Until there was only silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am updating on Tuesdays _and_ Fridays now, hooray! (Mostly because I crave validation. And sweet Jesus have you guys been giving me validation, you've exceeded my wildest expectations.) Thank you all so much for enjoying this story! Please leave comments if you've got the time and inclination, hit that kudos button (it all goes straight to my ego) and come scream with me on [tumblr](http://marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Chapter Four

“Alexander? Alexander?”

“He cannot hear you,  _ mon cher _ .”

“He’s coming around. I can sense his consciousness coming closer to the surface.”

Alex tried to remember who was speaking. He thought he should recognize their voices, but it was hard and his head hurt and everything was too loud. Attempting to say something, he ended up letting out a quiet mumble which was greeted with a gasp.

“See, I told you.” A cool hand pressed against his forehead. “Alex, are you with me?”

“John?” Alex mumbled. He blinked. John was kneeling next to him. Lafayette and Hercules stood behind the freckled young man, looking down at Alex concernedly. “Why’m I on the floor?” Alex managed. That wasn’t what he had intended to say, but it was a good question, he figured.

“You collapsed in the middle of the Assembly,” John informed him.

“Yeah, I know.”

“We took you into a side room because everyone was asking questions. I told them the truth. I hope that was okay?” John sounded worried.

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” Alex pushed himself into a sitting position. John didn’t try to stop him, but kept his hands hovering around Alex’s shoulders in case he needed help. “How long was I out?”

“More than ten minutes, man,” Hercules said. “That’s longer than yesterday.”

“Well, I didn’t burn a handprint into a table yesterday.” Alex winced and glanced down at his palm, expecting to see burns and blisters. To his surprise, his hand was actually wrapped in a damp scrap of white cloth and barely hurt. “Did I miss anything important?”

“Uh…” John glanced back at Lafayette and Hercules. Alex squinted. They were thinking about not telling him something, he could tell. But before he could press, Lafayette sighed and nodded, and John turned back to Alex. “Actually, yeah. Word just came in that the fighting in the South just started.”

“I’m going,” Alex replied immediately, and started to stand up.

John grabbed his shoulders and sat him back down forcibly. “Not right now, you aren’t.”

“This is what I’ve been waiting for my entire life,” Alex protested.

“Alexander,  _ mon ami _ ,” Lafayette began hesitantly. “If you cannot hold a debate with someone, how can you expect to survive on a battlefield?”

“I don’t.”

John groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Alex,” he pleaded.

Alex felt vaguely guilty. Here he was, getting these people invested in him, when he and they both knew he wouldn’t live through the war. Any pain or guilt they might feel at his death was going to be his fault. He edged over a few inches away from John, back towards the wall behind him so he could lean against it, and sighed. “If I don’t fight and give my life for a cause I believe in, I’m going to die doing nothing anyway. At least if I die in the revolution, my name will be remembered.”

“Is that all you are living for?” asked Lafayette softly.

“There’s nothing else for me.” Alex met his eyes unapologetically. “There’s no chance of ever being able to use my magic again. I can’t even debate anymore, and arguing with people was always the only thing I was ever good at. Why try to keep avoiding using my magic and my anger just to live for maybe another extra month or two, or even a few years, when I can’t do anything worthwhile?”

“If that’s really what you want, we can’t stop you. I mean, we only met you yesterday. I understand if you don’t feel any need to listen to us, but Alexander...we already consider you to be our friend.” John reached out a hand tentatively and placed it on Alex’s shoulder. “We really don’t want you to die.”

Alex looked away. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “I don’t really want to die, either. But I don’t want to live like this. And anyway, my mother is waiting on the other side.”

His friends had no answer for that. Lafayette and Hercules glanced at each other helplessly and John moved so he was a little closer to Alex. “Well, we're all going to fight too,” he told him. “So I guess we can all be in good company on the other side.”

“I guess so,” agreed Alex gratefully. “When do we leave?”

“Um. We were thinking tomorrow.” John bit his lip. “But we can wait longer if you want.”

Alex felt strangely calm. “Tomorrow sounds great.”

“You never did get to actually have a drink yesterday,” Hercules realized. “We should go back tonight and make an evening of it. If we're all going to die soon, we might as well have some stories to tell.”

“ _ Oui _ , my friend.” Lafayette sounded unusually somber. “We can tell the story of tonight.”

 

“I may not live to see our glory--I  _ won’t _ live to see our glory, but I am glad to join the fight.” Late that night, after several mugs of ale had been consumed by each of the four revolutionaries in relative silence, Alex began speaking. “And if any of us survive, our children...they’ll tell the story of tonight.”

“Let’s have another round tonight,” Hercules suggested.

“Let’s have another round tonight,” Lafayette repeated.

Alex nodded, and called for another round. Thoughts of death kept spinning around in circles in his mind, circles that the liquor couldn’t break.

John picked up his refilled mug and held it out to his companions. “Raise a glass to freedom,” he proposed. “That’s something they can’t take away, even if we lose our lives. We’re fighting for something worthwhile. No matter what they tell you, freedom is worth it. Hey...raise a glass to the four of us.”

The other three tapped their mugs against John’s and took a simultaneous sip. “Tomorrow, we’ll join the fight. Tomorrow, there’ll be more of us,” Hercules pointed out.

“Tomorrow,” Alex said slowly. The alcohol had affected how quickly he could speak, but not how quickly his mind could move, so he had to be careful. “Tomorrow, we’ll tell the story of tonight.”

“To the story of tonight,” echoed his friends. The final clear memory that Alex had of that night was John’s eyes lingering on him, an intense gaze that Alex was never quite sure if he had imagined. The rest of the night was lost in a blur that somehow resulted in all four of them waking up the next morning in a tangled pile on the couch in the basement of Hercules’ tailor shop.

When Alex woke up, his head was pounding from only the small amount of light that shone in from the open trapdoor, and he groaned internally. Today was not going to be pleasant.

“Morning,” mumbled Hercules on the other side of the couch.

“Uhhh,” replied Alex eloquently. He was wedged between John and Lafayette. The Frenchman’s feet were tucked up into Alex’s lap and his head rested on Hercules’ knee. Alex squinted. That couldn’t be very comfortable, but Lafayette was so soundly asleep that he probably didn’t care very much. John had his head leaning on Alex’s shoulder and his breathing was just below the level of a quiet snore. As Alex tried to move carefully into a more comfortable position, John’s breath caught and he flinched awake. “Sorry,” Alex mumbled.

“‘S okay.” John rubbed his sleeve against his eyes tiredly. “Good morning.”

“No, it’s not,” Hercules returned.

“Okay, you’re right,” conceded John. He yawned, and put his head back down on Alex’s shoulder. Alex, in turn, held very still. He didn’t want John to flinch away again.

Suddenly, Lafayette let out a quiet groan. “ _ Mon dieux, j’ai mal à la tête _ ,” he moaned.

“English, Lafayette,” begged Hercules. “It’s too early to try and figure out what you’re saying.”

“He said he has a headache,” Alex supplied.

“Don’t we all,” Hercules muttered.

Lafayette buried his face downward on Hercules’ leg and mumbled something indistinctly. Hercules patted his head comiseratingly.

“Some story this turned out to be,” John commented unhelpfully.

“We'll make it more interesting by tonight,” Alex responded. “We've got to go south, join the fighting. Join the General.”

“Sure,” Hercules muttered. “Soon as we can stand up.”

Eventually, they did have to stand up. All four had such terrible headaches that they passed the morning without much talking, but with some food, they were ready to head south by midday.

“Boys!”

The four men turned around on their way out of town. Eliza Schuyler was dashing up behind them, waving at them to stop. Her pale blue dress was laced sloppily, like she had raced out the door to catch them before they could get too far so quickly that she didn't have time to put herself together very well.

“You're leaving to fight,” she panted. “All of you?”

Lafayette stepped forward. “ _ Oui _ ,  _ mademoiselle _ . We are going to join the revolution.”

Eliza looked at Alexander. She looked almost distraught. “Even you?” she asked.

“Yes. It's my only chance to make a name for myself, Eliza.” Alex wished she would understand. He wished they all would just understand.

“I understand,” Eliza said quietly. “But you are special, Alexander. You...and you, John.”

John looked startled. “Me? Eliza, you and I both know that my magic isn't special or useful.”

“On the contrary, you and Alex are incredibly unique. It's  _ my _ magic that comes a pound for a penny. Just...don't sacrifice yourselves stupidly, okay? I don't want to lose you.” Eliza took a deep breath. “Look after each other.” She glanced over at Lafayette and Hercules. “That goes for all of you.”

“I'll make sure these knuckleheads don't do anything too idiotic,” Hercules promised.

Eliza nodded sharply and looked demandingly over to Lafayette.

“ _ Oui _ , me too,” he replied, realizing what she was asking. “No one will be an idiot.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,  _ ma cherie _ .”

Before she could even turn her gaze back towards them, Alex and John offered their promises as well. Satisfied, Eliza sighed. “Thank you. Be careful, my friends. Come home alive.” She looked like she was about to say something else, but thought better of it and turned away, heading slowly back towards the town. Her head was bent as she trailed off alone.

Alex watched her go. Despite barely knowing her, he had felt an immediate kinship with her. It made him sad that he would probably never see her again.

“Alex?” John said. “Let's go. We have a war to fight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I usually update later in the day than this, but I'm leaving town this weekend and won't have access to a computer after about three. But I doubt anyone's going to complain...Come scream with me on [tumblr](http://marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com/)!!! Seriously, I wanna hang out with all you guys, and I've gotten a few anonymous messages there but ahhh I want to get to know you all a little better! If you come and talk to me, you might be surprised by the things I spill out about the story and other stories I'm working on just because I'm honestly lonely and desperate. I'm working on another AU at the moment, longer and more involved than this one, also set in modern times...Also, for every person who sends me an ask on tumblr, I'll publish a sentence from the next chapter of the story. (I'm blatantly bribing you guys by this point, but I don't really care tbh.) Love you all, thanks for reading, and especially for commenting! <3 ~Clare


	5. Chapter Five

Alex had expected the war to be anything other that what it actually turned out to be--boring. Sitting around in a camp and waiting for orders that didn’t come for two weeks had extinguished all of Alex’s fantasies of grand adventure. He had spent the whole morning scribbling notes and observations on a handful of old paper that someone was going to use as kindling for a breakfast fire. The other soldiers had laughed at him when he had pulled the papers out of the flames, their edges slightly scorched along with his fingertips. He had started to argue with them, but Lafayette had led him away.

“They were wasting paper! We have barely enough to write our reports on, and they were trying to burn it!” Alex had complained.

“ _ Oui _ ,  _ mon ami _ , but please do not pick fights. We have enough problems as it is,” Lafayette had pleaded.

“Fine,” Alex had muttered. He went into the tent that he and his three friends shared. Hercules and John had left two days ago on a small scouting party, but they were supposed to be back at some point that day.

Now, sitting cross-legged on his bedroll, Alex wrote on the paper with a stick of charcoal. The words that flowed from his mind down to his hand wouldn’t have made much sense to anyone else, but writing like this allowed Alex to organize his thoughts and put things in perspective. He lost track of time, dwelling in his own head as he wrote for hours. He ran out of room on the papers he had filched from the fire and, distractedly, kept scrawling the words onto the canvas floor.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, causing him to jump and clutch at his papers defensively. But it was only John. “Oh,” Alex mumbled. “How was the patrol?”

“Uneventful.” John sat down opposite Alex with a loud, painful groan, dropping his bag on the ground next to him. “Lotta walking. Lotta slipping and falling down dry riverbeds.”

“Are you alright?” Alex exclaimed, surprised.

John laughed. “Yeah, I’m alright. As Hercules said, I’m just being dramatic.”

“Oh, good.”

Gesturing towards the dark grey scribbles on the floor, John wondered, “What are you writing?”

Alex glanced back over the words. They had all made sense when he had written them, but now he couldn’t remember what they were supposed to mean. “I don’t know,” he said honestly.

“Must have been important. You do know that you’re writing on our tent instead of your paper, right?” John checked.

“I ran out,” explained Alexander.

John reached into his bag, smiling. “Here,” he offered.

Alex stared at the stack of papers John was holding out to him. “Where…”

“I draw sometimes, I guess. Brought these from the city in case I had time,” explained John. “You can have some, if you want.”

“Oh...thank you.” Alex took a few sheets of the paper, folded them carefully, and placed them into his own bag.

“I’ve got plenty, if you need more. But don’t tell anyone. I don’t want the officers taking it away from me to write reports on.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Alex studied the paper. It wasn’t often that someone gave him anything, and the fact that it was John made his cheeks begin to flush. He wasn’t sure why, but everything that John did made him feel warm. He kept trying to dismiss the feelings, but they were persistent. He was going to have to acknowledge them at some point. Alex looked up, very aware of John’s eyes on him.

John seemed about to say something when suddenly, screams and gunshots rang out from outside. Both Alex and John scrambled out of the tent. They stepped straight into a battlefield.

The redcoats had surrounded the camp, and were shooting down the hill. The revolutionaries were trapped, Alex realized. There was no way to escape. They were sitting targets, although they were fighting back.

John somehow already had his musket in his hands. He knocked Alex aside, took aim up the hill, and shot. A red-clad soldier tumbled down the hill. Alex was frozen in place. Somehow, he couldn’t force his limbs to do anything, to either grab his weapon or hide. John shouted something at him, then, seeing that Alex was immobile, shoved him to the ground. “Stay down,” he instructed, and ran off.

Alex watched, disoriented, as the battle raged around him. People were dying, screaming, but none of it quite reached him. He was remembering something else, another war he had been in. Only that one was not between men, but was nature turning against itself.

_ The hurricane was tearing the town to pieces. Freshwater and saltwater mingled together indistinguishably from the rain and the ocean, and was flung through the air by the buffeting winds. Alex thought that he was going to drown. He watched as the roof of a house was torn off and hurled through the air, to crash several yards away from him. He pressed himself down flatter on the ground, praying that the winds wouldn’t pick him up as well and toss him back to the ground, like a ragdoll. He could see it in his mind’s eye. Limp and broken, he would be just another casualty of nature’s wrath. Nobody would even miss him. _

_ Even over the howling tempest of the storm, Alex heard people screaming. A child was wailing, a heart-wrenching sound. Shielding his eyes from the lashing rain, Alex squinted across the field where he had been caught in the storm, but he could see nothing. _

_ Suddenly, the winds died down. The rain disappeared, and the tortured grey sky turned yellow. Shaking, Alex rolled onto his back. Was it over? By some miracle, had the storm run its course? Battered and bruised from the debris that the hurricane had spit onto him, he sat up painfully. Everything was quiet. _

_ In the distance, a grey wall of storm extended on all sides. The treacherous calm that surrounded Alex at that moment was only the eye of the storm. The worst was yet to come. _

The thud of a body hitting the ground in front of him pulled Alex out of his flashback. Wide-eyed, Alex stared into the face of the dead soldier. A trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, incredibly red against the deathly pale skin. It was far from the first dead body Alex had ever seen, but what shocked him so much was that he didn’t know the man’s name. He had seen him around camp, had even spoken to him a couple of times. But he had never learned his name.

Without warning, a wave of terror crashed over him, drowning him like the hurricane had. He was going to be forgotten. He was going to be just another body on the ground, and someone was going to realize that they had never known his name and would reflect on how sad it was and then they would forget about him and he would slip out of existence. And then he was standing up and his musket was in his hands and he was firing. The sound of the fighting all blurred in his mind but still got louder and louder and then--

Silence. Alex wondered if he was back in the eye of the hurricane, if the fighting was going to start up again any second. But as he looked around, he realized that while the ground was soaked in blood and sweat and vomit and littered with corpses of red and blue clad soldiers alike, some of the revolutionaries were still alive. Many were, in fact. And Alex was kneeling on the ground. He was still alive, too.

Hercules Mulligan, boots stained with blood, made his way over to Alex, offered his hand wordlessly and helped him stand up.

“We won?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, kid. We won. Wasn’t much to win, there weren’t many of them. How’re you doin’?”

Alex shrugged. “I’m alright. John and Lafayette?” His heart skipped a beat at the thought of either of his friends being killed.

“Both alive. Laf got slashed with a bayonet on his arm, but he’ll be okay.”

Sighing in relief, Alex nodded. “Where are they?”

“Over with the doctor. Sent me to go look for you. It was all over a few minutes ago. They were worried.” Hercules patted his shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s let ‘em know you’re alive.”

Lafayette, sitting on a fallen tree at the edge of the camp with John standing next to him and the doctor nearby, tending to another wounded soldier, waved amiably at Alex and Hercules as they walked over. “Alex,  _ mon petit lion _ , thank God. You are still with us.”

“You too,” Alex responded, gesturing towards the bandage on his upper arm. It was soaked through with blood in a few spots, but it didn’t look too terrible.

The young French soldier waved the remark off. “It is but a scratch.”

“He’s lying, but he’s fine,” John added. “Alex, are you alright? I was worried for a while there at the beginning. You kinda...froze.” He frowned. “And even now, you’re...something’s wrong.”

A prickle on the back of Alex’s neck and an intrusive warmth in his chest told him that John’s magic was reaching into him, trying to locate the source of whatever was wrong. “Stop it,” he snapped.

The warmth disappeared instantly. “Sorry,” John said guiltily.

“It’s okay, just...don’t. Not without my permission.”

“I won’t. But something  _ is _ wrong, Alexander.”

Annoyed, Alex said, “I just fought in a battle. We all almost died. Of course something’s wrong, that’s nothing that should be shocking to you.” Then he sighed resignedly and sat down next to Lafayette. “I had a flashback to the hurricane,” he mumbled softly. “It wasn’t just a memory, either. It was more than that. I think it was my magic.”

Lafayette’s hand touched his knee softly, grounding him. “Are you back here now,  _ mon cher _ ?” he asked.

“Yes. I guess I’m just a little shaken up is all.” Alex took a deep breath and stood up. “I’m gonna see if I can go help anywhere,” he announced, and walked away in no particular direction.

Late that night, after the dead had been buried and the wounded had been helped, Alex sat by a fire, keeping watch over the east side of the camp. He had volunteered. He was exhausted, but he didn’t think he was going to be able to sleep anyway. Not when he kept thinking about the battle, and the hurricane, and John...

The fire crackled and sparked, tiny embers flying up and falling back down into the flames. They were trying to escape, Alex reflected. They wanted to escape and spread and devour, but they couldn’t get enough momentum to get away from the bigger flames. It was almost sad.

“Hey.”

Alex turned his head, heart leaping. There was John, walking up behind him. “Hey,” he returned.

John sat down next to him quietly. There was something in his hand. After a second, he held it out to Alex without looking at him. “I thought this might help.”

It was a clean piece of paper and a charcoal stick. A dark smudge of the charcoal created even more speckles on John’s hand. Alex took it. “Thanks.”

A moment of silence later, John spoke. “You can write on it, if you want. Or, if you don’t feel like writing, I could draw you something.”

The second option sounded much more appealing to Alex’s tired mind just then. He handed the materials back to John. “Please.”

“Okay.” John balanced the paper on his knee and adjusted the charcoal around between his fingers until he was holding it comfortably. Then he began to sketch. At first, Alex considered asking what he was drawing, but decided just to wait. Seeing the beginnings of the picture form on the paper was calming, soothing. And John’s steady breathing was as well.

After a few minutes, Alex realized what the sketch was of. It was him. “Oh,” he whispered.

“Shh,” John said. “It’s not done yet.”

Alex fell silent again. He watched, mesmerized, as an incredibly detailed image of his own face emerged on the paper. In the sketch, he was smiling, just slightly. A strand of hair fell down in front of his ear, more wisps of hair near his forehead. His eyes were the last part of the drawing that John completed. Somehow, with only charcoal, he managed to make the fire reflected in Alex’s eyes glow softly.

John blew on the paper lightly, getting rid of the excess dust. He handed the paper to Alex and went to flick the stub of charcoal that was left into the fire, but Alex stopped him. “You have to put your name on it. And give it a title.”

If the fire hadn’t been flickering and giving an unreliable quality of light to everything, Alex would have said that John blushed. “It’s not good enough for that,” he mumbled. “It’s just a sketch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s incredible.” Alex placed the sketch back on John’s knee and guided his hand to the corner. “Sign it, and title it. Please.”

John bit his lip. “Okay.” His hand moved quickly, leaving his signature in its wake.  _ John Laurens _ , it read in looping, smooth letters. Then he hesitated. “What should I call it?”

Alex thought for a second. “I don’t know. You drew it, you have to choose.” John’s hand was trembling slightly. “I mean, you could just call it Alexander Hamilton.”

“No, I-I know what I  _ want _ to call it.”

For reasons Alex couldn’t quite pinpoint, he felt nervous. “So write it,” he prompted.

“I...Okay.” After another moment of hesitation, John began writing. Alex closed his eyes and listened to the scratch of the charcoal against paper. A second later, it stopped. “There.” John sounded apprehensive, like he was worried about how Alex would react.

Alex opened his eyes. In quotation marks underneath John’s signature read the title.  _ “Kiss me?”  _ His heart fluttered.

John was trembling. He was looking away from Alex, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said abruptly, standing up. “I shouldn’t have--I don’t--forget it. I’m sorry.”

But Alexander grabbed his hand and pulled him right back down. “Don’t you dare apologize for that,” he breathed. John’s golden-brown eyes were shining with frightened tears, his freckled cheeks flushed. “Hey.” He took the paper and charcoal and quickly wrote one word under the title.  _ “Yes.” _ He held it out so John could read it. The utter shock in the other man’s eyes told volumes. Alex’s heart was pounding, and he knew that John’s was, too. John raised his head and met Alex’s gaze, eyes shimmering with hope in the firelight. His mouth slightly open with surprise and his lips trembling, he looked like he was about to say something.

Alex stopped him by leaning forward and pressing their lips together gently. John was warm and shaking. Deepening the kiss, Alex put his arm around John’s waist and pulled him closer. “It’s okay,” Alex whispered into his mouth, not breaking the kiss. “It’s okay.”

John didn’t reply. For a moment, he was too astonished to really respond, but then one of his hands was on the back of Alex’s head, the other on his waist, and he was tilting his head so their noses weren’t hitting each other. They fit together perfectly.

A couple of seconds later, they broke apart, but not far. Their foreheads still touched, and both of their eyes were closed. Alex broke the silence and opened his eyes. “See? Don’t apologize for something we both wanted to do,” he murmured.

John opened his eyes next. He looked at Alex with such tenderness and gratefulness that Alex could do nothing but pull him in and kiss him again. That time, John pulled back. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

“Thank  _ you _ ,” countered Alex. “I would never have had the courage to ask first.”

John let out a shaky laugh. “Courage? Alex, I’m terrified.”

Alex put his arm around John’s shoulders, holding him close. “I can tell. But still. You’re braver than I’d ever be.”

Breathing unevenly, John allowed Alex to hug him. He buried his face in Alex’s shoulder. “I thought I could tell that you felt this way, too, but I didn’t...I wasn’t sure if it was just wishful thinking,” he confessed, his voice muffled. “I thought you might...well. Might hate me after that.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.” Alex pressed his chin to the top of John’s head. “You are wonderful, John. Nobody could hate you.”

“Now, that’s not true.”

“It should be.”

Suddenly, John pulled back to look at Alex. “We can’t tell anybody.”

“I know.”

“ _ Nobody _ . Even Laf and Hercules.”

Alex nodded. “I know.” And he made John put his head back down. “I know.”

“I think I’m gonna stay here for a while,” John said in a small voice.

Smiling, Alex ran his fingers through John’s hair. “That’s fine. I’ve got an all-night watch. You can even go to sleep if you want. We’ll say you came to keep me company and fell asleep.”

“It’ll technically be true.”

“Exactly.” Alex kissed the top of John’s head. “I’m probably gonna do that a lot, though,” he said.

“If you must,” John murmured, the tiniest teasing hint in his voice.

“I must.” Alex stared down at the man. He could hardly believe it. He had never, not in all of his daydreaming and mind wandering, not  _ once _ thought that this would actually happen. A warm feeling in the pit of his stomach welled up and then was pushed away by a sudden cold rush of worry.  _ What if someone finds out?  _ he anguished.  _ They won’t _ , he decided.  _ I won’t let them take this away. Never. _ He glanced at the drawing and then folded it up into a small square. Then he slipped it into his pocket, where nobody would see it. He’d find a better hiding spot later, but he didn’t want to move. “Hey, John?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s all gonna be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! This chapter is one of my favorites, so I hope you liked it. I really need some encouragement right now, I'm currently crying because Google Docs just deleted two hours of my work on one of my stories and there is absolutely no way to get it back. Anyway, next update is on Friday, come scream with me on [tumblr](http://marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com/), I love you all! ~Clare


	6. Chapter Six

War lends itself to a lot of feelings and a lot of events. Contentment, happiness, and love are not usually the first three that come to one’s mind when thinking about war, but that was how Alexander remembered it. The terror of the battle and the bloodshed paled in comparison to the warmth of John’s hand in his, of the warmth of their lips and bodies pressed together in the dark as they hid from the prying eyes of the other soldiers. Even fear retreats in the face of love, Alex grew to understand.

In the week following the first battle and the events of that night, which Alex kept replaying over and over again in his mind, John would grow increasingly more affectionate and then suddenly distant. Alex tried not to think too much of it. They didn’t really talk about it. Not yet. There was too much to think about without worrying about a little thing like kissing over a drawing and a fire, certainly not now that the fighting had begun in earnest. 

Alex began to notice that John wasn’t having a very easy time. The freckled young man would often look extremely distracted after battles, even battles where he didn’t suffer any injuries. He would shy away from Alex’s touch, brush off any concerns Alex might voice. And although Alex could tell that their other friends had realized something was wrong, too, John wouldn’t talk to any of them.

“Alexander,  _ mon cher _ , is our John alright?” Lafayette even asked Alex at one point.

Alex could only shake his head. Fear of being found out prevented him from opening his mouth out of apprehension that he might accidentally blurt out that he was worried that  _ he _ was the reason John was acting so strangely. Lafayette had looked at him quizzically, but had left it alone with a simple, “Well, if you  _ do _ happen to find out what is bothering him, I am worried.”

It was only after the next major battle that Alex got any closer to finding out the problem. Everyone had come limping back to camp, battered and bruised, and counting themselves lucky to still be alive. So many weren’t after that day. And everyone felt, to some degree, an uncomfortably unshakable feeling of guilt.  _ It should have been me, too. _

Hercules, dragging a thankfully-not-broken but badly sprained ankle, was helped by Lafayette over to the camp doctor. Alex couldn’t help feeling worried. He knew that John had made it out of the battle, had seen him walking back to camp slowly, head drooping. But he’d had such an air of “don’t come near me right now” that Alex had reluctantly let him wander away.

Now, it was two hours later, and Alex couldn't ignore that John had disappeared. He left camp in the direction that he had seen John go, and kept walking. Something told him he was going in the right direction.

Sure enough, after a minute, Alex saw John through the trees. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, his hands in his lap and his head bent almost to his knees. He didn’t make any sound or acknowledgement of Alex’s presence as Alex came to sit down quietly next to him. Alex waited for him to speak first.

When John finally responded, it was only to reach over and take Alex’s hand, not even looking at him. A moment or so later, he whispered, “I hate my magic.”

Alex squeezed his hand gently. “Why?”

“It  _ hurts _ ,” John said bitterly. “I told you that I get feelings about people, that I feel what they feel. I have sympathetic magic.”

“I know that,” Alex replied. “But why…”

“During a battle--” John’s voice shook and cracked. He finally looked up. With shock, Alex saw tears in his eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Keep going, I’m listening.”

“I can feel everyone’s fear, everyone’s pain. I can feel  _ everything _ . And I mean, it’s a different feeling than my own pain. But it still hurts. And to know that I’m often the one causing it, in the enemy…” His voice trailed off again. “Alex,” he said suddenly, “we haven’t really talked about that night. We keep...but we haven’t  _ talked _ .”

Alex felt uneasy. “I know that,” he said warily. He hadn’t wanted this to happen. As confused as he was about what was going on between them, he almost just wanted to keep it like this. A secret. Unmentionable, uncategorizable.

“Are we going to?” John asked nervously.

_ You’re asking me what we’re going to do? As if I know any better than you? As if I’ve ever had any experience in any of this before? _ Those were the only thoughts racing around Alex’s mind. Out loud, however, he said, “We probably should. At some point. But not right now. Right now…” Alex examined John’s expression, trying to read the emotions and thoughts hidden deep within his eyes. John tilted his head. “Right now, you and I should go back to camp,” he finished. “Laf and Hercules are worried about you. They saw you slip away.”

“Hercules is okay, right?” John said anxiously. “I know he hurt his foot.”

“He’s fine. Are you doing any better?” Alex hovered his hand over John’s shoulder, not knowing if the touch would be welcome.

“A bit.” John managed a tiny smile, and Alex’s eyes were drawn immediately to his smooth lips. It was clear that John noticed, because he smiled wider and pulled Alex in for a quick kiss. The quick kiss turned into a longer one, and another, and it seemed as if the comfort and contentment that came from the contact had gotten rid of the leftover pain. John sighed softly and pulled Alex to his feet. “You said at some point, we’d talk,” he said. “How soon?”

Alex thought quickly. “Tomorrow night?”

A glimmer of amusement sparked in John’s eyes. “We’re gonna sneak away from camp?”

“How else would you suggest?” Alex laughed. “Yeah. We sneak away from camp. We can go out into the woods and talk about whatever you want, for as long as you want.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Hand in hand, the two soldiers walked back to camp, only letting go just before they could be seen by anyone inside the camp. They smiled shyly at each other. This was going to be an interesting adventure.

The following night, the two soldiers crept away from the camp in the dead of night. As soon as they were out of earshot of the sentries, they placed the blanket they had brought with them on the ground and sat, allowing themselves to break the silence without fear.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all day,” Alex sighed.

“You don’t have to wait any longer,” John replied, and leaned forward, placing his hand on Alex’s cheek and kissing him. His lips were smooth and Alex’s were chapped.

“Mmm,” Alex responded. “I’m glad.”

John pulled him close and maneuvered them both until he was lying on his back with Alex draped over his chest. His fingers trailed down Alex’s arm, making him shiver slightly. “Not as glad as I am.”

Reveling in the simple pleasure of just being held, Alex gazed upward. Through the criss-cross branches of late springtime trees, the half-moon shone. It was so bright that the stars next to it couldn't be seen. The further ones could, though, and Alex thought about counting them. “The sky looks just like you,” he murmured.

John shifted underneath him. “What do you mean?”

“You're both beautiful and overwhelmingly amazing, and covered in freckles.” Alex smiled at John’s offended scoff. “Only yours don't glow.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Could you make them glow?” Alex asked interestedly. “With your magic?”

John hesitated. “I mean, probably. But I've told you, my magic doesn't really like to change things like that. It just lets me look at the world and at people a little different.”

“Tell me more.”

“Really? You want to listen to me babble about my magic?”

“I'd listen to you babble about anything,” Alex replied honestly.

John laughed. Alex could feel his laughter bubbling up in his chest and releasing. “Okay,” he said. “I can try. Well, it was my mother who had magic. She died when I was really young. My father, you know, owns slaves.”

“I know,” Alex responded softly.

“He's very...well, he's not very accepting of new ideas. He didn't know that my mother had magic until a few months before she died. She only told him because I was starting to do magic things that needed to be explained. My father pretended to be okay with it all. He knew my mother was dying, and he really did love her despite everything. But he was  _ afraid _ of me, and after she died, he showed it.” John stopped talking for a second. Alex reached for his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. He squeezed back gratefully and continued. “My magic...it makes me overly empathetic. I could feel what his slaves feel, and so I wanted him to free them, stop treating them like property. But he never listened to me. Eventually, I just...left. I got to the city, I met Hercules and Lafayette and joined the Children of Liberty. I wasn't going to tell anybody about my magic, but...in the end, it was an accident. It's really hard to hide the fact that you can feel everyone’s pain.”

“What can you feel right now?” wondered Alex.

“You. There's so much going on inside you, Alex. You're in almost constant pain, you know. You've stopped paying attention to it, but it's still there.” John laid his hand lightly over Alex’s second heart. “You haven't had problems with it in a little while. Has something changed?”

“I have you.”

“I meant with your magic,” John laughed.

“ _ You _ ,” insisted Alex. “Nothing is as important as you, so there isn't anything else to get passionate enough about to make me try to do magic.” He rolled over. Now his and John’s chests were pressed together, Alex pinning him down. Their noses were almost touching. “And besides. I have something to live for now,” he added.

John’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he whispered. “Really?”

“Really,” Alex returned. He bent his head down and kissed John quickly. “I want this to last as long as we can make it.”

John looked worried. “Alex, if they find out…”

“We’ll be laughed out of the army. I know. I know. I don’t care.” Alex situated his knees on the ground on either side of John’s waist and pulled John by his collar up into a sitting position, bringing their lips together.

“Everyone would hate us,” John said. “Don’t you think we should talk about this?”

“About what?” Alex was lying. He knew exactly what John was talking about, but it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. Why couldn’t they just pretend it didn’t matter?

“What we are.” John stopped Alex from kissing him again to keep him quiet. “Please. I need us to talk about this.”

_ I don’t want to. I don’t want to think about it _ . But John was looking at him so pleadingly, he couldn’t say no. “Okay,” he sighed finally. He rolled off of the other soldier so he was just sitting next to him. “What do you want me to say, John?” John wasn’t looking at him. With a start, Alex saw that his hands were shaking, just like they had been when titling the drawing. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” he said gently. “You don’t have to be scared.”

“I’ve been scared my whole life.” John finally looked up at him. “Alex, you’re not...not the first person I’ve felt this way towards.”

“Okay,” Alex said.

“You’re not the first  _ boy _ I’ve felt this way towards.”

Alex nodded. “Okay,” he repeated. “That doesn’t matter to me, you know that.”

“Clearly.” John’s hand was trembling even more now. Without a word, Alex took it in his own and ran his thumb over John’s knuckles. John sighed, and relaxed slightly. “Thanks.”

“I’ve felt this way towards boys and girls,” Alex offered. “If that helps.”

John shot him a confused look. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. I thought it was normal. My mother had to tell me that I wasn’t supposed to feel like this about other boys before I embarrassed myself.” Alex had to laugh a little. “I was always a little bit too enthusiastic about showing my feelings as a kid.”

“I figured out I was different when I was really young, and the church told me I was wrong. I never really told my parents, or asked them about anything, but my father knows. Just another reason why he hates me. Thinks I’m gonna pull the whole family into hell.”

Alex felt a surge of anger on John’s behalf. “I’m sorry,” was the only thing he could think to say. He held his arms out and John leaned in. Alex hugged him tightly. “I’ve got you,” he murmured.

For a few moments, John just stayed there. “We really need to get back to camp before someone realizes that we’re gone,” he mumbled.

“I wish we weren’t on opposite sides of the tent,” Alex replied.

“Me too.”

“I wish we could sleep in each other's arms.”

John’s voice shook. “Me too.”

“How much trouble would we get in if we just stayed here the whole night?” Alex proposed recklessly.

John pulled away, shocked. “Are you kidding?”

Alex sighed. “Yeah, I guess. I wish I wasn’t, though.” He took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so thrilled by the reaction this story is getting, you have no idea, AHHHH! I love all of you so much, okay, this is amazing. If you're interested, I've been working on some ficlets in a couple of other 'verses (a high school one and a college one) that you can find on my tumblr! There are only a few published, but I have a lot written and I'm spreading them out. Thanks for reading! As always, come find me on tumblr (marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com) and scream with me, I love you all, stay hydrated, listen to music, breathe regularly and deeply, sit up straight (yes, I'm talking to you, sloucher), and go to the bathroom. Seriously. You've been holding it too long. <3 ~Clare


	7. Chapter Seven

“Alex! Psst! Wake up!” John hissed in Alex’s ear.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Alex mumbled.

“Get up! Get up, get up, get up, the General is here.”

“WHAT?!” Alex was definitely awake now, throwing his blankets off and rubbing his eyes.

John threw Alex’s uniform at him. “He arrived early this morning and he’s about to give a speech. Get dressed!” Alex dressed quickly. John kept tapping his foot impatiently. “If you make me late to the General’s speech, I’m gonna…”

“You’re gonna what?” Alex teased.

John stuck his tongue out childishly, making Alex laugh. “Just hurry!”

“No, I want to know, what’re you gonna do?” Alex finished buttoning his coat and John grabbed his hand unceremoniously, yanking him out of the tent. “Tell me after,” Alex quipped. “I’ll give you time to think.”

All the other soldiers were already standing in their ranks, waiting for the General to come out of the Captain’s tent. John pulled Alex over to Hercules. “Where’s Lafayette?” John asked.

“Where do you think?” Hercules gestured to the tent. “Probably the reason we’ve been waiting so long is because he can’t stop hugging his adopted dad.”

John laughed. “Of course. He must be happy.”

“You should’ve seen him this morning when the news came in. I swear, he couldn’t stop grinning and babbling and bouncing all over the place.” Hercules shook his head fondly.

A collective gasp rippled through the soldiers. Alex had to stand on tiptoe to see over the heads of the men in front of him, but then General Washington stepped up onto some stool or stone. The man had a presence unlike anyone Alex had ever seen, imposing and poised and carrying such a need for respect that the entire crowd fell into a hush as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Soldiers,” he said. “We are outnumbered. We are out-planned, out-gunned. We have got to make an all-out stand. If I am honest, you have put me on a pedestal of which I am surely undeserving. You embellish my elegance, praise me beyond my merit. But we cannot ignore the fact that we are not winning.”

The hush was now a somber silence, everyone holding their breath.

“The British have taken Brooklyn. We have the fighting contained for now, but the sheer force of the British armory is not something that can be matched even with our passion. But that doesn’t mean that we should not continue to stand up and fight!” Washington’s voice swelled. “I try to be everything this young country needs as its General, but I cannot be everywhere at once. I need you men to come with me and join my forces in Harlem. We need all the help we can get. Now, I have come to ask you personally because it will be dangerous. Many of you may die. Many have already. But damn if we are not willing to die for this cause!”

The crowd erupted into cheers. Washington held up a hand, and the silence returned instantly. “We move out tomorrow. Thank you all.” The General turned and stepped off his platform, slipping back into his tent. An excited burst of chatter exploded from the crowd as it dispersed and scattered.

Lafayette made his way through the slowly diffusing crowd towards Alex, John, and Hercules. He was bouncing slightly and he looked even more happy and excited than usual. “Alex,  _ mon cher petit lion _ , the General would like to speak to you!” he exclaimed.

Alex blinked, startled. “Me? He wants to speak to me?”

“ _ Oui, _ that is what I said! Go, go, you do not wish to keep him waiting,” Lafayette urged.

“What does he want with me?” Alex asked.

John nudged him gently. “Does it matter? Just go! We’ll be waiting here.”

Nervously, Alex made his way over to the tent. A soldier stationed outside nodded at him to enter. He pushed the flap of the tent aside and stepped in. “Your Excellency, you wanted to see me?” he asked. He was surprised to see none other than Aaron Burr standing with the General, in the middle of a conversation.

“Hamilton,” Washington greeted. “Come in. Have you met Burr?”

“Yes, sir,” Alex responded.

“We seem to keep meeting,” Burr added, giving Alex a strange look. To Washington, he said, “As I was saying, sir, I look forward to seeing your strategy playing out.”

“Burr, please make sure the tent is closed completely on your way out,” the General told him dismissively.

A flash of well-disguised anger shone in Burr’s eyes, but he made no protest as he exited the tent.

Alex swallowed. “Have I done something wrong, sir?” he asked hesitantly.

The General actually smiled. “On the contrary. I called you in here because I want your assistance. Your reputation precedes you.”

“D-does it, sir?” Alex was careful to keep his voice fairly level, but he couldn’t help stuttering a little.

Washington waved his hand. “Lafayette has been telling me about you. How has nobody hired you yet?”

“Sir?”

“You’ve made a bit of a stir in the ranks, Alexander. Your genius has not gone unnoticed, you know. You are an excellent writer, according to everyone who knows you. I’m surprised that someone hasn’t offered you a job relating to your words yet,” Washington commented. “I know several people who probably would hire you, given half a chance.”

Alex couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Someone hiring him to write? That would mean leaving the war. Forgetting for a second that he was talking to one of the most respected men in America, he scoffed. “As a secretary. I don’t think so.”

Washington raised his eyebrows slightly. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not!” But that was a lie. Leave the revolution to sit at a table and write all day? Leave his friends? Leave  _ John _ ?

“It’s alright that you want to fight, Alexander. I was just like you when I was younger. I bet your head is full of fantasies about dying like a martyr--”

“Yes,” Alex responded without thinking.

The tiniest knowing smile graced the General’s lips. “Dying is easy, young man. Living is harder.”

Alex blinked and tilted his head. He knew that. “Why are you telling me this?”

“All that I said before--about being outnumbered, about losing. It’s all true, and I’ll be completely honest with you, Alexander. Our Congress promised me three times the men and supplies I’m currently working with. I’m overwhelmed. I need help. I need someone like you to help me. How would you like to be my right-hand man?”

Speechless, Alex stared at the General.  _ His right-hand man? That means staying in the revolution. That means making a name for myself. This is my shot. _ “I would be honored,” he managed.

Washington nodded brusquely. “Alright, son. What do you suggest our next move is?”

Alex thought quickly. “What we need most is help. My friends, John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, and you know Lafayette...they’re good men, they can be trusted with commands and with anything else you might need. Um...you say we’re out-planned, perhaps we should organize some spies? That way we might be able to figure out what the British are planning. And we definitely need supplies--the officers have been struggling to even find enough paper to write reports on, and we don’t have enough food to feed a quarter of the army properly. I can write to Congress and tell them we need more funds! I  _ am _ good with words, sir, I can convince them of anything you need.” He inhaled quickly, having spoken his stream of thoughts so quickly that he had forgotten to breathe in between sentences.

A glint of amusement shone in the General’s eyes. “Thank you, Alexander. Those are all excellent suggestions. Why don’t you go and speak with your friends? I’m sure that Lafayette, for one, will be pleased to hear of your new position. I refused to tell him what this meeting was about, for fear that you might turn me down and he would be crushed.”

“He does tend to get overly enthusiastic,” Alex laughed. “Thank you, sir.” He nodded respectfully and left. He was bursting with pride and excitement as he raced over to his friends, who were still exactly where he had left them, like John had promised.

“Well?” Lafayette cried. “What did he want to ask you?”

“I am his  _ right-hand man _ !” Alex said.

“What exactly does that mean?” Hercules asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think it means that I get to help with strategy and planning and I get to shout at Congress until they give us what we need, so that’s amazing,” Alex babbled. “And I may have mentioned all of your names, so don’t be surprised if he gives you all positions.”

“I suppose that means you’ll be pretty busy?” John asked. Alex looked at him quickly. His words sounded congratulatory and friendly, but Alex could tell that he was upset for some reason.

“Well, yeah,” Alex replied, confused. “I’ll be busy.”

John nodded. “Right. Congratulations, Alexander.” He smiled, but the smile was forced. Alex could see that Lafayette and Hercules were exchanging bewildered glances, but Alex paid them no heed. “I’ve got to, um, do something,” he mumbled, and walked away quickly.

Lafayette looked upset. As soon as John was out of earshot, he turned to Alex. “Alex,  _ mon ami _ , I do not know what has gotten into him. He should be happy for you! Pay him no mind,  _ non _ , I am sure he is thinking about something else.”

“It’s fine,” Alex said distractedly, watching John go. He was sure that his face was showing his unhappiness, but he didn’t care what Lafayette and Hercules saw at that moment. “It’s fine,” he said again. He turned and walked back towards his own tent, ducking inside. Alex sat down and rummaged through his bag until he found the papers that John had given him. He held a stick of charcoal over one sheet for several minutes, mind racing, before he threw the stick across the tent in frustration. No words were enough to express whatever it was that he was feeling. Why did language have to fall so far short of emotions?

He realized that his charcoal had fallen on John’s bedroll and resignedly crawled over to pick it up. He found himself lingering over John’s bag. Some papers were sticking carelessly out of the side of the opening, and Alex felt a surge of curiosity. He shook his head quickly. No, he wasn’t going to be so dishonest. He picked up his charcoal and went back over to his own bedroll. The rush of elation he had felt at his promotion had dulled away quickly. Now, he was simply empty. John was angry at him. Lafayette and Hercules knew something was wrong. He was sure that everything was going to come crashing down on him in the near future, and that there was nothing he was going to be able to do.

Angrily, he flopped down onto his stomach. He crumpled the piece of paper in his left hand and pinched the charcoal into dust with his right. Watching the black powder swirl in the air in front of his face gave him a sense of power, and he blew it away just to watch the particles scatter.

Suddenly he was filled with spite, but it was only directed towards himself. Everything was going right for one minute, and then it all had to just be ruined. Why was John upset, anyway? Surely, as Lafayette had said, he should be happy for Alex. The black dust coalesced into a pile on the ground, the bits of charcoal inexplicably attracted to each other even after being crushed apart. Why should they have to be so close, but be unable to turn back into what they used to be? Alex was the reason for their separation.

He knew it was stupid. He knew he was being ridiculous and irrational, but as he stared at the small pile of powder, he reached into his second heart and let a strand of his magic escape into his body. It burned ferociously, but he didn’t care. He welcomed the pain. He guided the magic into the tip of his first finger on his right hand and it began to glow. His face was flushing, and he trembled with the effort of only allowing just enough magic to come through. It was, quite possibly, the hardest thing he had done in years.

Breathing heavily, he touched the pad of his finger to the pile of dust. A sharp pain ricocheted from his second heart all through his body and his vision blurred, everything wavering like the air just above white-hot coals. Alex had just enough time to see the fragments of charcoal form themselves back into a perfect cylinder before he slipped under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex is an idiot and I love him. Also, I'm uploading this from my phone, so sorry if the format is weird. I'll fix it tomorrow! Thanks for reading, even more for commenting, and as always I am marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com. <3~Clare


	8. Chapter Eight

“What did he  _ do _ to himself?” Hercules said deploringly. Alex came back to partial awareness at the feeling of a damp cloth pressing to his face.

“I do not know,” Lafayette replied. “And I cannot find John. He might have been able to help more than we can.”

“Don’t need help,” Alex mumbled. His eyes felt like they were glued shut, but he could picture the look of surprise on Lafayette’s face.

“ _ Mon cher _ , you are back with us,” Lafayette said gently. “Stay still, yes? You are sick.”

“I’m fine.” Alex tried to sit up, but he could barely move his arm to prop himself up and didn’t get very far.

“You’re burning up, kid,” Hercules told him. “The hell happened?”

Miserably, Alex turned his head to the side. “Was being stupid,” he muttered.

“Why am I not surprised?” the tailor sighed.

Alex wanted to be upset by that remark, but he couldn’t feel anything more than the heat and ache that stretched throughout his whole body. His mind was numb. Without meaning to, he said, “Is John mad?”

Lafayette’s hand, cool and soothing, laid across his forehead. “I don’t know, Alexander. I'm sorry.”

“That’s not what you should be worrying about right now, anyway,” Hercules said bluntly. “What exactly did you do to yourself?”

“Leave him alone,” Lafayette said sternly. “Alex,  _ mon ami _ , can you open your eyes for me?”

“No,” Alex responded honestly.

“That’s fine,” sighed Lafayette. “Why would our John be angry, Alex?”

Alex kept his mouth shut.  _ They can't know. They can't know _ , he told himself over and over again.

“Alex!” Lafayette had taken his hand. “My friend, breathe easy. Do not be so upset, no?” Alex realized that he was almost hyperventilating, and tried desperately to calm down. “Hush, shh. Everything is fine.”

_ But it isn't _ , Alex thought.  _ I've ruined everything. _

“Shhh,” Lafayette kept saying. “I promise to you, Alex, you are fine.”

“You're wrong,” Alex mumbled, but he let his friend continue to stroke the back of his hand and calm him down.

“That is better, is it not,  _ mon petit lion _ ? There you are. Do you think you could open your eyes now,  _ cher _ ?”

It was a struggle, but Alex blinked his eyes open. Lafayette was kneeling next to him in the tent, and the Frenchman smiled, relieved. “Hi,” Alex said.

“Hello, there. How are you feeling,  _ mon ami _ ?”

“I'm okay.”

“Now, that is a lie, Alexander. But I will let it go for now. You are, as Hercules said, burning up, however. You are very feverish, my friend. Is there anything we can do to help?”

Alex couldn't clear his head. Dazedly, he wondered why Lafayette was so worried. How could he be feverish? He wasn't ill. “I'm fine,” he said. Suddenly exhausted, he closed his eyes, preparing to rest for a minute. Maybe if he took a nap, he wouldn't feel so dizzy.

“Alex! Alex, open your eyes. Please,  _ mon ami _ , stay with me,” begged Lafayette.

Annoyed, Alex opened his eyes again. “I'm tired,” he protested.

Lafayette was watching him with sad, worried eyes. “I know,  _ mon ami _ , but I am concerned that if you go to sleep, you will not wake up,” he confessed.

Hercules leaned down and murmured something in Lafayette’s ear. Alex couldn't hear what he said, but Lafayette nodded and the tailor left.

“Where's he going?” asked Alex.

“He is going to find John.”

A cold dread settled in Alex’s stomach. “Why?”

“Because,” Lafayette began patiently, “he understands more about magic than I do, and because whatever is wrong has something to do with him and you. It is none of my business what precisely happened, but I cannot fix what I do not understand,  _ mon cher _ .”

“Why do you assume something’s wrong between me and John?” mumbled Alex.

Lafayette actually laughed. “ _ Mon cher _ , I am not assuming. I am observing.”

“Everything's fine.”

“No, it is not,” Lafayette said decisively. “Now lie still and stop talking.”

Alex found that he didn't really have a choice at that point. Lafayette had one hand pressing on his shoulder, making sure that he didn't sit up. The other hand held the cool cloth that Alex had felt before really waking up. He closed his eyes again as Lafayette draped it over his forehead. This time, his friend didn't make him open them again.

Alex heard a shout from outside. “ _ WHAT _ ?!” someone cried. It was John. He tensed. Lafayette squeezed his shoulder as John burst into the tent. “Alex, what did you do?” he exclaimed.

“I made the charcoal dust back into a stick,” Alex admitted meekly.

A beat of silence. “Why the hell did you do that?” John demanded.

“I don't know,” Alex groaned. “I just did.”

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” John told him. “Laf, let me look at him.” The Frenchman moved over and John knelt down next to Alex, who kept his eyes firmly shut. He didn't want to see whatever expression of anger or hurt or frustration that John might hold, and flinched at John’s slim hand settling on his forehead. “My God, Alex! You're on fire.”

“Thanks,” Alex muttered, which made John snort. Alex had to smile. Even now, he could still make John laugh.

“Idiot,” John murmured fondly.

“Are you mad at me?” Alex had to ask.

There was a pause, in which Alex cracked open one eye to see John turn and give Lafayette a pointed look. Lafayette took the hint and left the tent.

“No,” John told Alex softly. “I'm not mad. I was, a little bit. I was being selfish. I thought you were...Well, I'll be honest, I thought that you might be taking this job to get away from me.”

“Why would you think that?” Alex exclaimed, opening his eyes to stare at John in disbelief.

“I thought maybe you were scared. And I wouldn’t have blamed you, I promise.”

“Scared of what?”

John shrugged. “Your own feelings. My feelings. The possibility of being caught, and what that would mean.”

“Oh. I’m not scared of any of that.” He thought for a second. “Well, maybe getting caught. But not enough to stop.”

The relief was clearly visible in John’s eyes. “Well, now that we’ve got that cleared away,” he mumbled. “Alright. Let me see what you did to yourself, okay?”

“Okay.” Alex exhaled slowly as John placed his hand on his chest. The warmth of John’s magic made Alex recoil as it joined the heat of his feverish body.

“Shh,” John said soothingly. “It's alright. It is. You're fine.” He didn't stop whispering softly until Alex had relaxed, and only then did he extend his magic further. “Oh, my God,” he added after a few seconds. “Oh, Alex. You need to be more careful, my love.”

“I'm sorry,” Alex said guiltily.

“You're gonna kill yourself.” John’s hand trailed up from Alex’s chest to his cheek. “Please promise that you'll be more careful. Please.”

“I promise.” Alex gazed up into his lover’s eyes. “I promise, John.” 

“Thank you,” John whispered. He bent down and pressed his lips against Alex’s. John’s were practically ice-cold compared to Alex’s feverish ones. “We'll tell the General that you're ill. You don't have to tell him about your magic. You can rest and recover and  _ not _ use any more magic.”

“Don't have time for that,” Alex said. “Got to help the revolution. Got to start this nation, help General Washington.”

“The only thing you've got to do right now is to stay alive,” John instructed. “Got that?”

Alex smiled. “I'm not going to die, John.”

John touched Alex’s lips with two fingers. “Don't say that. Don't say anything. Go to sleep and get rid of this fever. And stop being stupid, okay?”

“Rude,” Alex muttered. But he let his eyes fall shut. “Do you think Laf knows?”

“I think...I think everything's gonna be fine, Alex.” The young man kissed Alex’s forehead, and then Alex was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this is so late, i was at a gay prom actually, it was a lot of fun but i'm incredibly tired. And it's still 6 minutes to midnight here so technically it's still Friday, I'm not updating late. G'night y'all. Much love, come talk to me on tumblr (marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com) where you can also find tons of high school and college au ficlets where they whole gang is there and they're all incredibly queer. (Featuring hella nonbinary Laf, hella gay John, hella bi Alex, trans (though that's only mentioned a couple times) Angelica, ace Eliza, agender Peggy...oh, and Sally Hemmings and Maria Reynolds are together in those 'verses bc fuck Jefferson and James Reynolds, those ladies deserved better. I'm rambling now, so I'm gonna sign off. G'night friends!) ~Clare


	9. Chapter Nine

Alex’s eyes were burning. He had been staring at black ink on white paper for so long that when he looked up, all he could see was the pale after-images of the script. Letting out a groan, he put his head down on the desk he was sitting at. He didn't anticipate being the General’s right-hand man as being one long blur of writing and reading, sending and receiving letters and information and reports.

He hadn't seen his friends or John in ages. Alex had been holed up in an office, barely making time to eat and certainly not sleeping, for two weeks. The General hadn't even been at the camp for three days. Alex was tempted to just use magic and make himself ill again, just to see his friends. He reminded himself that John had made him promise not to do anything like that again, but that didn't mean he couldn't think about it.

The makeshift barracks of the camp, which were being built for the oncoming winter, were not comfortable. Alex had a small room to himself, but it only had a desk, a chair, and a bed. Between sleeping in the chair and in the creaky, uncomfortable bed, Alex would pick the chair every time.

The sunlight glared obnoxiously even through the tightly pulled curtains. Alex’s head pounded from lack of sleep. Wearily, he stood up and stumbled over to the door. Maybe if he could find something to eat, he'd have the energy to focus on the words again. But the moment he stepped out into the camp, he slammed into someone rushing towards his door. “Excuse me,” he apologized, not realizing who it was he had bumped into for a second. Then: “Lafayette?!”

The enthusiastic Frenchman threw himself onto Alex, hugging him tightly. “Alexander! We are back.”

“I can tell,” Alex laughed. Lafayette had almost knocked him over, and he had to throw his arms out to steady himself.

“Oh! I am sorry,  _ mon ami _ . I did not mean to unbalance you.” Lafayette gripped Alex’s shoulders unnecessarily, just in case he was going to fall over. “How has your work been?”

Alex groaned. “I'm not doing anything.”

“ _ Non _ ? Then why do you look so tired?” asked Lafayette, teasing gently. “Come, let us sit and talk. Hercules and John will be along shortly. They had reports to turn in.”

Alex led him into his room. “They should just bring them here,” he lamented, gesturing towards the stacks of paper piled haphazardly on his desk. “Save a messenger a trip.”

Lafayette sat down on the edge of Alex’s bed as Alex collapsed into his chair. “That is a lot of paper for you to be doing nothing with.”

Alex rolled his eyes tiredly. “I was being figurative. I'm  _ doing _ plenty, but none of it feels worthwhile. I don't see any direct effects of my work. Do you know what I mean?”

Nodding, Lafayette answered, “ _ Oui _ ,  _ mon petit lion _ . You would rather be on the battlefield, fighting and winning, or losing, as it might be, instead of being cooped up away from the action and adventure.”

“Exactly.” Alex buried his face in his hands. “And I'm just so  _ tired _ . I work and work and work, and I barely sleep, but there's never even a dent in this...this mess.” He waved absently over his desk.

“ _ Mon cher _ , you need to sleep!” exclaimed Lafayette.

“There’s too much to do!” wailed Alex.

“I am sure that the General would understand if you needed to take a small rest,” Lafayette promised.

Alex was about to argue when there was a knock at the door.

“That will be John and Hercules,” Lafayette remarked.

“Come in,” Alex called.

In burst Hercules Mulligan, grinning widely. “Alexander!” he greeted. “How’s life as the General’s assistant treating you?”

In response, Alex grimaced and put his head down on his desk dramatically. He let out a tired groan.

“That good, huh?” Hercules said sympathetically.

“Hercules, tell this man that it is necessary for him to sleep,” Lafayette demanded.

The tailor wandered over to Alex’s chair and patted his shoulder. “It really is, you know.”

“Too busy.” Alex raised his head. He wanted to ask where John was, but didn’t want to raise suspicions. He knew it would be hard enough to contain himself when John did come in. After not seeing his lover for over a week, it was going to be all he could do to not kiss him the moment he entered.

Apparently, whatever look he had on his face was enough to tell Hercules that he was trying to figure something out. “Looking for John?” he asked.

Alex nodded casually. “Laf said he’d be coming with you.”

“He’ll be here in a minute, he had to talk to the General for a minute longer than I did.”

“What about?”

Hercules shrugged. “Hell if I know.” He went over to Alex’s bed and sat down heavily next to Lafayette. “Oh, damn. If I had to sleep on this thing, I would just keep working, too,” he asserted. “The ground is softer than this, Alex, what’s it made of?”

“Nightmare material,” Alex quipped.

Lafayette snorted. He was about to say something, but a quiet knock at the door interrupted him. “I expect that is John.”

Alex stood up quickly and went to open the door. The instant the door was open more than a crack, he felt himself being swept up in a huge hug. John held him so tightly, he didn’t think he could breathe. “John! You’re choking me,” he coughed.

“I don’t care,” John retorted, but loosened his grip all the same. Finally, he released Alex and held his shoulders at arm-length away. He looked the young man up and down. “You look terrible,” he observed.

“Thanks,” Alex responded. “So do you, honestly.” John had dark half-circles under his eyes and a bruise on one cheek. He looked paler than normal, his freckles standing out starkly against the rest of his light brown face.

“Thanks,” John laughed.

Lafayette cleared his throat. “John, our Alex has not been taking care of himself,” he said accusingly.

John stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him. Alex went back to his chair and sat down guiltily. He felt very outnumbered with all three of his friends reprimanding him. He waited for John’s inevitable lecture patiently. “Is that right?” John asked Alex.

Alex kind of shrugged. “I'm okay.”

“Hmm, yeah, see, I'm not buying that. Have you slept at all in the past two days?” Thinking, Alex was about to nod. John cut him off. “For more than two hours consecutively.”

“Oh. No.”

John looked at him, unimpressed. “Alexander Hamilton, you are going to get a full night’s sleep tonight if I have to sit on you.”

Alex almost made some clever comment like “Is that a promise?” or “Please do,” but caught himself. “Okay,” he settled for. “I'll sleep. When I get through these reports.”

“Not good enough. Even if you don't. I want you in bed by an hour after sunset.”

Startled, Alex raised his eyebrows. “John, I haven't gone to bed that early in years.”

“Non-negotiable,” John insisted.

Alex sighed. “Yes,  _ mum _ .”

Lafayette couldn't contain his laughter. “John,  _ mon ami _ , it seems you have a gift. Nobody else can make our Alex give in so quickly.”

John bowed sarcastically. Alex was tempted to suddenly refuse to sleep at all that night, if only to wipe the smug grin off John’s stupid face. But he didn't. As much as he hated to admit it, his friends were right. He was exhausted. 

“Well, we should probably leave Alex to his work,” Hercules said suddenly.

Wanting to tell them no, to stay for as long as they wanted, Alex reluctantly nodded. “If I'm going to get anything done today, you're probably right.”

“Do you need anything?” John asked.

“Um…” Alex thought back to what he had been doing before Lafayette showed up. Oh, right. “I was gonna go get something to eat.”

Lafayette nodded decisively. “Think no more of it, my friend.” He stood up. “We'll bring you something. You just work for a while. Perhaps tomorrow, after a good rest, we can spend some time together. It is another two days before our next mission, after all.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Alex hid a yawn and turned to his papers as his friends left the room quietly.

A short while later, another knock sounded at his door. “Alex, it's me!” said John.

A smile spread across Alex’s lips. “Come in,” he called eagerly.

John stepped inside, a plate of food in his hands. He came over to the desk and placed the plate in front of Alex, who completely ignored it and stood up. Alex grabbed John’s collar and pulled him close, kissing him warmly. “Oh, my God, I've missed you!” John exclaimed after he pulled away.

Alex didn’t even respond with words, just kissed him again, harder. He closed his eyes as John kind of laughed and pulled him close. He pressed his lips to Alex’s temple gently.

“I’ve got you, my dear.” John somehow managed to get them both sitting on the edge of Alex’s bed. He cupped Alex’s face in his hands, running his thumb across Alex’s cheekbone lightly. “What’s going on? Why haven’t you been sleeping,  _ really _ ?”

Sighing softly, Alex tucked his head into John’s chest. John’s arms went around him and Alex shifted slightly until his lover was entirely supporting his weight. “I can’t let the General down,” he mumbled. “I can’t stop working, or he’ll lose faith in me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to go without sleep, Alex.”

“He expects me to do whatever it takes to get through all of this work and keep track of what’s happening in the revolution,” Alex contradicted. “If I don’t get everything done, he might change his mind and make me leave.”

“Oh,” John realized. “And that’s the worst outcome you can think of.”

“Exactly,” sighed Alex. “I’m scared that I’m not going to be good enough.”

“I think you’re worrying too much,” John told him. “The General would have to be an idiot to think you weren’t good enough.”

Alex smiled into John’s shoulder. “I think you’re a little biased.”

“Well, what if I am?” John retorted. “It’s true. He’d have to be an idiot. And I think we can both agree that he’s anything but an idiot.”

“You’re an idiot,” mumbled Alex fondly.

John poked his side. “I’m  _ your _ idiot.”

“Now  _ that’s _ true,” acknowledged Alex, squirming away. “Okay. I would love to sit here for hours with you, but if you want me to sleep tonight, you're gonna have to get out of here and stop distracting me so I can get my work done.”

John kissed the back of his neck. “I'm distracting you?” he teased, his breath tingling on Alex’s hair.

“Yes!” Alex laughed. “Get out of here. Leave. Go.” He pushed his lover away gently.

“I'm hurt,” pouted John.

“Come back in three hours,” Alex instructed. “I'll be done by then, and it'll be sunset.”

“Bossy.” But John walked out, leaving a too-quiet room behind him.

Alex sighed longingly, watching him go. He almost thought about calling him back, but restrained himself.  _ You have work to do _ , he reminded himself sternly, and got to work.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Alex was incredibly focused on copying out a particularly messy report and feeling like he was ready to just stab himself through the eye with his quill when a light tap on his shoulder made him jump about two feet into the air and yelp.

“Whoa, Alex!” John laughed. “Calm down. You told me to come back in three hours, but you didn't answer me when I knocked.”

Alex tried to slow his startled breathing. “Right. Sorry. I was concentrating.”

“I know. Are you done with what you need to do?”

“My work isn't done, but I am,” Alex stated resignedly.

John snorted. “Finally, you're getting it.” He took Alex’s hands and pulled him to his feet. “As a reward, I'm gonna kiss you.”

“What if I don't want a kiss?” Alex teased.

“Oh, you do,” John smirked, and kissed him.

“You're right, I do,” admitted Alex. “And I would like another one, too.”

“Now, that's asking a lot,” John pondered.

“Shut up,” Alex said. He pulled John down to match his lower height and kissed him soundly.

A knock at the door made them spring apart. Alex sat down in his chair quickly and called, “Come in!”

In walked Lafayette. “My friends, are you going to join us for dinner?”

“Sure,” John said casually. “We were just talking about…” His voice trailed off and he looked at Alex for help.

Cursing inwardly, Alex jumped in. “About what your mission was.”

“Without divulging secrets, of course,” John added hastily.

“Exactly.”

Lafayette looked mildly amused. “ _ Oui _ , is that right?”

“Yep,” Alex said uncomfortably. “That's right.”

Chuckling, Lafayette nodded. “Whatever you say. Come join us by the fire when you're ready.” He raised his eyebrows at them and continued laughing as he left.

In stunned, embarrassed silence, John and Alex slowly turned to look at each other. “Well,” Alex started.

“Let's just follow him,” muttered John. He was turning red.

Alex nodded instantly. “Yes. Good--good idea.” He cleared his throat and stood up, composing himself. Then he and John glanced at each other again and burst out laughing. “We need to be more careful,” Alex gasped.

“I-oh, God, I know,” John replied. He was clutching Alex’s shoulder to keep himself upright. “But did you see his face?”

“What do you think he thought we were actually doing?”

“I have no idea,” answered John. He wiped a tear of mirth away from his eye. “C’mon, before he gets even more suspicious.”

Lafayette didn't say anything that evening as they ate, but he did continue to watch John and Alex out of the corner of his eye curiously. They both managed to keep completely innocent faces the whole time, miraculously. 

Later that evening, Alex could barely keep his eyes open. John shot a pointed look at Lafayette and Hercules and said to Alex, “Alright, you’re going to bed. C’mon.”

“No, I’m fine,” Alex protested weakly, and let out a huge yawn. John rolled his eyes and hauled him to his feet. “Alright, fine. But I’m coming with you because I want to, not because you’re making me,” he asserted childishly.

“Whatever gets you through the day,” John sighed. He led him through the camp to his small office. “Now, how do you want to do this? I'm sharing a tent with them, I can't stay all night or they'd figure it out easily.”

Alex sat down on his bed with a yawn. “I don't know. Stay for a while?”

John sat down next to him and started unbuttoning Alex’s coat. Alex let him. Having someone take care of him was very nice, he reflected. It continued to be nice as John pushed him down onto the bed gently and pulled the blanket over him. It got even better when John laid down next to him and pulled him into his arms, kissing his forehead.

“This bed was not built for two people,” Alex observed.

“Well, I won't be here for long.” John ran his hand through Alex’s hair, working through the tangles that had set in after several days of sitting at a desk without thoughts of looking presentable. Alex closed his eyes and sighed quietly. “Go to sleep, my dear. And sleep as long as you can. Don't worry about waking up with the sun to work tomorrow.”

“No point in staying in bed without you next to me,” Alex murmured, but he was already nearly asleep.

“I know,” John whispered. “Someday, maybe. Shh, just go to sleep.”

“Okay.” Alex was too exhausted to stay awake any longer, even talking to John.

His lover’s fingers kept smoothing through his hair, but eventually the sensations all faded away. Alex woke again slightly, as John climbed out of bed, kissed him once, and tiptoed away. But in the morning, Alex couldn't remember if he had really heard John breathe “I love you” softly into his ear. He thought that he had probably imagined it, but he was never quite sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to put up because the power was out at my house (in California in the summer. Not fun). But it's a pretty long chapter, so there's that! Hope you liked it, let me know what you thought! If you like my writing and want more of it by some chance, you can always come find me on tumblr where I have a couple of series of au ficlets, a high school 'verse and a college 'verse. I might decide to put them here, too, if anyone is interested in that. <3 ~Clare


	10. Chapter Ten

The revolution was losing. The new General that Washington had promoted was terrible. Charles Lee, his name was. He couldn't keep his men alive past a single battle. Alex had confronted him once, and Lafayette and Washington had needed to drag him away before he got too worked up. But that was counterproductive, as Alex had then yelled at them for stopping his attack on the incompetent General until he lit a pillow in Washington's tent on fire. After waking up, Alex was sufficiently calm enough to deal with explaining his magic to Washington, although Lafayette had mostly dealt with it already.

Now, Alex was being made to lie in bed, feverish yet again, with Lafayette fussing over him. “Go away,” he told the Frenchman for the tenth time that day. “I’m fine.”

“ _ Oui _ ,  _ mon ami _ , you are just wonderful,” Lafayette responded absently. “Except for the small fact that the heat of your skin could melt lead at the moment.”

“You’re exaggerating,” mumbled Alex.

“Only slightly.” Lafayette reapplied a wet cloth to Alex’s forehead but he swatted it away.

“Leave me alone.”

“You are being stubborn.”

“No,  _ you’re _ being stubborn.”

“I am only being stubborn because you are being stubborn,” Lafayette said, exasperated. “You listen to John, perhaps I should send for him.”

“He’s miles away,” Alex said sadly. “He’s busy.”

Lafayette’s voice softened. “I know. But he is doing important work, you know this.”

“Is there any more news about the war?” Alex asked.

“Not since this morning when you so gallantly attacked Lee and then shouted at the General,” Lafayette reminded him.

“Someone’s gotta do something about Lee.” Alex was struggling to form his lips into coherent phrases. He was very hot. Why was there a blanket on top of him? And his chest hurt, it burned like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. He coughed.

“Not you. And certainly not right now. Oh, Alex,  _ mon petit lion _ , why must you continue to roar when it hurts you so?” Lafayette lamented.

“It’s what I do, Laf.” Alex let his eyelids flutter shut. “It’s part of me. I can’t turn it on and off.”

“Your fighting or your magic?”

“Either. Both. Doesn’t matter.” Again, Alex coughed. “Someone’s gotta do something about Lee,” he repeated.

The tip of Lafayette’s finger tapped Alex’s nose lightly. “Someone,  _ mon cher _ . But not you.”

“Why is it never me?”

“Why must it always be you?” returned Lafayette. “The weight of the world and the fate of the revolution are not all resting on your shoulders. The sooner you understand that, the easier it will be for you and all of your friends.”

Alex didn’t know how to respond to that. His mind felt like molasses, slow and thick. “But...Lee has to be taught a lesson,” he mumbled. “He’s got...he’s gotten so many people killed, and Washington doesn’t see. Why won’t he see?”

“General Washington is more intelligent than you give him credit for,  _ cher _ . He must see something in Lee that we do not. Now, shh. You must get some rest.”

“It’s...it’s just stupid,” Alex said.

“What is, Alex?”

“Everything,” replied Alex. “Me. I’m so...so entirely  _ useless _ .”

Lafayette sighed heavily and sat down on the edge of Alex’s bed, shifting his weight until he was comfortable. “Alex. You are not useless.”

“Can’t even...talk to someone without  _ this _ . I should be dead by now, Laf,” Alex said miserably. “There isn’t any  _ point _ . I try to help and then I end up just being a hindrance to everyone. You shouldn’t have to be here. You should be off fighting for what you believe in, not taking care of someone who can’t do anything.”

Lafayette poked his shoulder. “I think you misunderstand the situation,  _ mon cher _ .”

“How so?”

“I do not have to be here. I am choosing to be here. If it were, as you say, that you were only being a hindrance, I would have left you on your own a long time ago. You are sick,  _ mon cher _ , and it is not your fault.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t,” Lafayette insisted patiently. Alex wished he would just stop arguing. “Now,  _ please _ . Let yourself rest, and you will be up and well again before you know it.”

Alex  _ really _ wanted to argue that point, but he was just too tired. He exhaled slowly and let himself begin to fall asleep. His friend, clearly relieved, sighed and began pushing Alex’s hair away from his face in rhythmic, even strokes. Alex didn’t want to admit it, but that was calming. He didn’t have any trouble falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please pretend I didn't publish this late, I'm sorry, I'm so tired lately I just forgot. <3 Hope you enjoyed! Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com/)!


	11. Chapter Twenty

“Alex, you need to promise that you won't get upset,” Hercules said.

Alex stared up at the tailor, who had just walked into his office without a word of greeting. With trepidation, he replied, “Okay…”

“And I do mean promise. Everything is fine.”

“If everything was fine, you wouldn't have to tell me all this,” Alex pointed out. “Get on with it.” He was a little annoyed.

Hercules sighed. “The attack that General Lee led yesterday at Monmouth...it didn't go very well.”

A flood of anger washed through Alex but he kept his voice level. “What happened?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Hercules explained. “He kept trying to retreat, but we shouldn't have been retreating. It should have been an easy win, but only by Lafayette taking the lead did we even manage to get a stalemate.”

“Is everyone alive?” Alex demanded.

“If by everyone, you mean me, Laf, John, and the General, yes. But we lost almost a thousand men, Alex.” Hercules’ face betrayed a flicker of sadness. “You probably didn't know any of them, but we did.”

“Lee needs to pay,” Alex said. “I don't care what Washington says. We can't let him stay in power.”

“No, we need to let Washington take care of it,” countered Hercules.

_ He's not going to be on my side in this one _ , Alex realized.  _ And Laf will side with him and Washington, obviously.  _ That meant there was only one person who Alex could count on to back him up if he did anything. “Where's John?”

 

“Alex, no.”

Frustrated, Alex waved his hand through the air in front of John's face. “Don't you see it?” he said, his voice raised. “We can't stand by and do nothing. Hercules said you three knew some of the soldiers who died.”

“Of course we did,” John replied calmly. “But we all have to obey Washington, and he put Lee in charge. He has his reasons.”

“I thought you, of all people, would be on my side,” Alex snapped. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

“And what side is that?” John asked. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish, Alex?”

“Getting Lee out of power so he can't get anyone else killed. And have you heard the things he's saying about Washington? The General must not know, or there'd be no way he'd let Lee stay where he is.”

“What sort of things has he been saying?” John demanded, an icy edge to his voice. Alex knew it wasn't directed at him and, encouraged, he explained.

“He's been saying that  _ Washington  _ is the one who is the incompetent one. That if Washington really wanted to help the revolution, he should go back to Mt. Vernon and keep working on his plantation.”

Righteous fury blazed in John’s eyes. “That's utter shit.”

“I know! That's why I want to challenge Lee to a duel.”

“Wait, what? Nobody said anything about a duel,” John exclaimed. “Alex, you can't hold an argument with someone without passing out. What the hell makes you think you'd be able to participate in a duel?”

Alex looked down, ashamed. “I know I can't. I can't disobey direct orders from Washington, either, and he told me I wasn't allowed to confront Lee again.”

John paused. Alex tried to figure out what was happening in his lover's head, but he couldn't. So he was very surprised when John uttered, “Then I'll do it.”

Alex just stared for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“Of course. I may not agree with you completely, but you are the closest friend I have. More than that. I...I love you more than anyone else, Alexander. I would rather die in a stupid duel than watch you continue like you have been.” John watched Alex carefully, searching for a reaction. 

Alex wasn't sure what to say. He fidgeted with the end of his sleeve, flustered. “Thank you,” was what he finally managed.

A spark of disappointment showed in John’s eyes. “Okay. You'd better be my second, though,” he added, trying to sound lighthearted.

“Of course,” Alex hastened to say. He tried to figure out why John had looked upset for a second, then realized. “Oh, John?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

 

“Alexander.”

“Aaron Burr,” responded Alex. He wasn't surprised by Lee’s choice of second. Burr was one of the only soldiers who did not openly despise or oppose Lee. But then, Burr didn't openly despise or oppose  _ anyone _ . He was the epitome of non-confrontationalism, the precise opposite of Alex.

“I believe we can agree that duels are dumb and immature?” Burr checked.

Alex shrugged. “I mean, sure, but Lee has to answer for what he's done.”

“But with his life? That's absurd.”

Suddenly angry at Burr’s blatant disregard for the severity of what Lee had done, Alex cried, “Hang on, how many people have died because of Lee’s inexperience?”

Burr stared at him for a minute, then stated, “Okay. So, we're doing this.” Without waiting for Alex to respond, he turned and walked back across the camp towards Lee, who had been waiting back for the results of the seconds’ negotiations. Alex sighed and went back to John.

“Let me guess,” John said. “Nothing has changed?”

“It was me and Burr, what would you expect?” Alex retorted. “I'm starting to think this wasn't a good idea.”

John laughed. “Wasn't it you who told me, just five months ago, that you, and I quote, ‘thrive on bad ideas’?”

“Did I say that?”

“I remember it quite clearly,” John teased. “I remember most things you said quite clearly, actually. I was quite smitten with you.”

Alex snorted. “Smitten?”

“I tell it as it happened,” John proclaimed.

Shaking his head, Alex tugged on John’s arm to tell him to follow. “The duel is tomorrow at dawn. You'd better get some sleep.”

“I could die tomorrow,” John realized.

“Lee doesn't have enough invested in the duel to shoot at you,” Alex reassured him nervously.

“You sound so very confident.”

They were at the door to Alex’s office. “I am,” Alex said. “You're not gonna die tomorrow.”

“How do you know?”

Alex opened the door and led John inside. “Because,” he said casually, “if you did, that would be my fault. And that is just not going to happen. There's no chance.”

“...I don't know whether to be flattered or scared by that declaration,” John remarked.

Alex shoved him gently, and he fell backwards dramatically onto the bed. “Flattered, you idiot,” Alex muttered.

John grinned, his freckled nose wrinkling as he did. For someone who thought he might die the next day, he seemed remarkably chipper. “That's what I hoped. But…” He lay back on the bed, eyes sparkling. “Since it might be my last night alive, and I may not have another chance, I should spend the night here.”

Alex blinked. The prospect thrilled him. “But, what if someone realizes?” he protested weakly, knowing that one of them was going to have to say it.

John shrugged. “We were up all night talking strategy for the duel tomorrow and I happened to fall asleep in your chair. No problem there.”

John’s confidence was contagious. “Okay,” Alex agreed. Suddenly, he was smiling. “Okay,” he repeated.

His lover grinned up at him. “So.”

Alex sat down on the edge of the bed. “So,” he echoed.

A mischievous look entered John’s eyes. He wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist and pulled him down suddenly. Alex let out a yelp, falling backwards as John tugged him close.

“John!” Alex exclaimed, trying to wriggle free. But John wouldn't let him go, squeezing Alex to his chest. “What are you doing?” he complained, not really annoyed.

“I dunno,” John said, his voice muffled in the back of Alex’s neck. Alex tried to squirm away again.

“Stop breathing on my neck,” he said.

John blew a concentrated stream of breath onto the back of Alex’s neck just to annoy him, making him yelp again. “Okay.”

“You're being rude,” Alex mumbled, but he relaxed a little and let John hold him. His lover's hands trailed over his sides and settled in a locked position over his naval. “Are we just going to stay here like this all night?”

“What else would you suggest?” John asked.

Alex felt his face flush. He was far from being a virgin, but from what John had told him, he had no idea if John was or not. He couldn't even tell if John was being serious in his inquiry. “Well. Um,” he started awkwardly. 

“Oh! Oh,” John realized, and he kind of let go of Alex and inched away.

“I mean. We don't have to, of course,” Alex said quickly. “But when you said you were gonna stay...I just kind of thought.” He rolled over so he could look at John. The freckled young man was bright red and looked almost scared. “John!” Alex couldn't help exclaiming.

“Ummm.” John bit his lip. “I don't...I don't know if I want to.”

Alex let his tone soften. “Would it be your first time?”

If possible, John turned redder. He looked more ashamed and embarrassed than Alex had ever seen him. “Yeah,” he said in a tiny voice.

Alex smiled and tilted his head forward to kiss John gently. “Okay,” he said. “Come here, then. We don't have to do anything but lie here if you don't want to.”

“I've never wanted to...do that,” John confessed as he cuddled closer to Alex. “With anyone. It was never like that, not ever.”

Alex tugged him close. “Sure thing. This is plenty nice, too.”

“It really is,” John sighed.

“Oh, and John?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you told me once that you thought I was gonna make it?” Alex reminded him.

“I remember. I still think that.”

“Well, I think you're gonna make it tomorrow, too.” Alex shifted so John’s head rested on his chest. “Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning.”

“First thing,” John said happily, and exhaled softly. His breathing grew rhythmic and even and slow, signaling to Alex that he was falling asleep. After a few minutes, Alex’s breathing was in sync with John’s. Despite the upcoming duel and possibility of danger, Alex slept far better than he had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand now you know why I've got asexual John Laurens tagged. (I'm not ace, so if I said anything wrong, please let me know. My beta who is ace told me she was okay with it all, but I know that different people have different experiences so please don't hesitate to correct me, I am always glad to be educated <3) Other than that note, I'm getting lazy. It's late. I'm tired. You know the drill. Thanks for reading, leave a review if you're so inclined, come talk to me on tumblr (link below), I love you, be kind to yourself and others, I'm hugging you from afar if you want a hug, drink enough water, have a good week/summer/winter if you're in the southern hemisphere, and as my favorite biology teacher always used to say: make good choices and be good people! <3 ~Clare


	12. Chapter Twelve

Alex woke up warm and comfortable without knowing exactly why, but there was a terrifying, anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. He opened his eyes and was confronted with the still-sleeping, freckled, adorable face of John. It was still dark out, which Alex thanked the Lord for. If they had overslept and missed the duel, someone would surely have come looking for them. “John,” he murmured sleepily.

John mumbled something incoherently and rolled closer to Alex, hiding his face in Alex’s shoulder.

“Wake up, my dear,” Alex laughed. “Come on, we've got a big day ahead.”

John yawned. His hair was all mussed and he looked incredibly disheveled and bleary-eyed when he blinked and looked at Alex. “Morning,” he said.

“That it is,” agreed Alex. “Almost. It's nearly dawn, I think. Let's get you ready for the duel.”

“If I'm gonna die, I wanna die looking amazing,” John stated.

Alex laughed and kissed him. “Well, you won't need to worry about that. You're not going to die. And you always look amazing.”

John frowned. “Even after spending a night sleeping in my uniform on a too-small bed?”

“Especially then,” laughed Alex. “Oh, damn, you're right. We both slept in our uniforms,” he added. “Well, it'll save us having to get dressed. Come on, let's get up. We can be out and ready before anyone else, so nobody will ever know you were here.”

Thirty minutes later, John and Alex stood out on the flat ground of a clearing near a riverbank. John was fiddling nervously with his pistol. “I've never been in a duel before,” he confessed.

“Me neither. But you're an amazing shot, John. Don't shoot to kill, okay?” Alex put his hand on John’s shoulder reassuringly.

“I won't. We want him out of command, not six feet under,” John replied.

“Exactly. Burr is going to bring a doctor. It's all going to be over soon, and nobody else is going to die because Lee can't lead an army.” Alex smiled grimly.

“You know, I didn't really agree with you at first,” John said slowly. “But I think that if I hadn't agreed to do this, and the mess at Monmouth happened again, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. So, I mean, I'm happy to do this.”

Alex couldn’t help feeling a bit of guilt at that. If John died...no, that couldn’t happen. That wouldn’t happen. Alex would use the rest of his life and magic and stop a bullet in midair if that was going to happen.

With that sudden resolve, he immediately felt a lot better. He was about to pull John in for a kiss when from between the trees came Lee, Burr, and the camp doctor, who looked irritated and resigned at having been pulled out of bed so early in the morning.

“Laurens,” Lee greeted coolly.

“General Lee,” John responded politely.

Burr stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Is everyone prepared? Pistols loaded, sins confessed?”

John glanced at Alex. “Yes,” he said. Alex gave him a slight nod.

Lee and John were standing about a foot away from each other. John was slightly taller than the General, but Lee was much wider and managed to look down at John with a chilly, superior disdain. “When we say so, turn and walk ten paces each. Then you may turn and fire,” said Alex.

Burr nodded and looked over at the disgruntled doctor. “Turn around.” The doctor did so.

John looked over at Alex.  _ Deniability _ , Alex mouthed. He had never participated in a duel before, but he had read plenty about them. John nodded, understanding.

“Look him in the eye,” Alex said softly. “Don’t aim any higher. You have all the courage you need.”

Lee rolled his eyes. “If we’re done with the words of encouragement, I have other things to do with the rest of my day as the General of the revolutionary army.”

Alex smiled coldly. “Second General,” he corrected. “General Washington is and always will be  _ the _ General.”

Lee’s face curled into a snarl. “Start counting,” he barked at Burr.

Burr looked at Alex. “Turn your backs on each other,” he instructed. He and Alex took several steps back as the two duelers did so.

“When we count, start walking. Ten paces, men. Then shoot.” Alex took a deep breath. “One, two--”

Burr joined. “Three, four, five,” they said together. John and Lee were walking, their hands resting on their pistols. “Six, seven, eight--” Alex’s heart was pounding. He got ready to use his magic if he needed to, felt the beginnings of the surge of heat in his chest. “Nine! Ten paces, fire!”

Everything moved simultaneously more slowly and more quickly than Alex had anticipated. One shot rang out, there was a shout, and both men stumbled backwards. Alex’s vision was blurred, he couldn’t tell who had fired, who had been shot. But Burr seemed to know, as he raced to Lee’s side. The General was falling to the ground, and Alex ran to John, who was shaking and staring at his pistol.

“Lee, do you yield?” Alex called, steadying John and looking back at Burr and Lee at the same time.

Burr glared. “You shot him in the side, yes, he yields!” he shouted.

John coughed slightly. “I’m satisfied,” he said. His voice only shook a little.

Suddenly, from out of the trees from the direction of the camp, came storming General Washington and a few other soldiers. “What is the meaning of this?” he cried angrily.

Alex whirled around. Washington’s eyes blazed with fury as he pushed past John and Alex to reach Lee. “Sir,” Alex tried to say, but Washington ignored him.

“You there,” he barked at the hapless doctor who looked very much like he would rather be somewhere else, “attend to the General.” To Lee, Washington said, “Lee, you may not agree with me, but believe me--” He gestured widely back towards Alex and John. “These young men do  _ not _ speak for me.”

Alex swallowed nervously. This was not going to end well.

“Thank you for your service,” Washington finished as the doctor began stemming the flow of blood from Lee’s side.

_ Yes! _ Alex thought triumphantly.  _ He’s leaving. We did it. _ But his feelings of elation were short lived as Washington turned around and strode back over to him and John. Alex kind of stepped in front of John, preparing to take the blame, but Washington didn’t give John a second glance. “Sir,” Alex began nervously.

“Hamilton!” Washington snapped coldly. “Meet me inside.” He brushed past Alex and John and headed back towards the camp.

Alex shot John a helpless look. John took his hand, squeezed once, and gave him a gentle nudge off to tell him to follow the General. “Goodbye,” Alex muttered sarcastically. “I don’t expect to see you again.”

John laughed humorlessly. “Good luck. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Alex let go of John’s hand and headed after the General. The path to the camp seemed longer than he had remembered, and he deliberately didn’t catch up to Washington so he could prolong the time until the inevitable explosion. By the time he reached Washington's office in the camp, the General was already inside. Alex hesitated before knocking and opening the door. Several soldiers were standing around and smirking at Alex, no doubt knowing that he was going to be in trouble like no other.

Alex took a deep breath and entered. Washington was facing away from the door, his hands clasped behind his back. As he heard Alex enter, he turned around. “Son,” he said.

“Don't call me son,” Alex snapped without thinking.

Washington ignored him. “This war is already difficult. We don't need to make it worse by infighting.”

Alex glared. “Lee was trying to drag your name through the mud, we couldn't let him do that  _ and _ get so many soldiers killed because of his incompetence.”

“My name's been through a lot, I can take it,” Washington replied, exasperated.

“Well, I don't have your name! I don't have status, land, anything. But if you gave me--”

“No!”

Alex pressed on. “If you gave me a command, I could help lead us to victory. I'm tired of sitting at a desk, sir! But you make Charles Lee a General over me, your right-hand man. As an officer, I could rise above my station!”

Washington leaned over his desk to look Alex right in the eye. “Or you could die. And we need you alive.”

Alex scoffed. He could feel the fire stirring in his chest. It had broken free with the shot fired several minutes ago, and there was no way it was going to go back now. There was nothing he could do. “I am more than willing to die,” he said quickly, gripping the back of the chair in front of him as his sight began to waver.

Washington groaned. “Your friends need you alive. Son,  _ I  _ need you alive!”

Alex tightened his grip on the chair. “Call me son  _ one more time _ !” he shouted.

The chair snapped under his hands, and a charred scent filled the air. A red-hot lance seemed to pierce Alex through the right side of his chest and he stumbled backwards. He heard Washington curse under his breath and saw him leap forward to stop Alex from crashing to the ground. Alex felt himself being caught by the upper arms, but the world was going black. He thought dimly how lucky it was that he at least wouldn't have to listen to more of a lecture if he was finally dying. Then everything was dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, my loves. Things are happening! The duel! The things! Sorry, I'm barely coherent right now. I've been having a really not-so-easy or fun day, and I'd more than appreciate any love and feedback you all could give me in the comments. I totally understand if you don't comment, though, and I still love you very much! Next chapter on Tuesday, and in the meantime why not go read [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7060489/chapters/16050871) which is the first year of my college 'verse? It's rly cute, complete, and has mutually pining John and Alex. Be safe and be kind! <3 ~Clare


	13. Chapter Thirteen

“Sir, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” John was saying. Alex opened his eyes, blinking slowly. He was in his bed in his office, he realized. John was standing with his back to Alex, and Washington was standing near the door. “He’s not going to be happy about this.”

Washington shook his head. “No, he’s not. But I’m not worried about his happiness, I’m worried about his safety. Which is why I’m doing this.”

Alex licked his lips, trying to speak. His mouth was dry, but he managed to say, “Doing what?”

John whirled around. “Alex! Are you alright?”

Ignoring the question, Alex sat up with difficulty. “Doing  _ what _ ?” he insisted.

“You’re going home, Alexander,” Washington told him.

Alex stared. “No, I’m not,” he said after a beat of stunned silence.

“That wasn’t a suggestion, Alexander. That was an order from your commander.”

Alex felt tears springing to his eyes. He couldn’t go home. He couldn’t leave the revolution now. Besides that, he didn’t have a home to go back to. “Sir,” he said weakly.

“Non-negotiable,” Washington said sternly. “Get some rest. You’re leaving tomorrow morning.” He strode out of the room, leaving John and Alex alone.

John turned to Alex, a look of devastation on his face. “I tried to convince him otherwise, but he wouldn’t listen to me!” he said.

“I know,” Alex muttered. “I know.” He wouldn’t meet John’s eyes. “John, I don’t  _ have _ a home,” he said finally.

John sat down next to him. “I told him that, too. Lafayette will let you stay in his home if you want. Or I’m sure Eliza…”

“I don’t want to--” Alex broke off sharply. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Are you in any trouble?”

“The General isn’t pleased with me, but he’s not sending me home. I think he really is worried about your safety, Alex,” John said, his voice trembling. “And I know I should be, too. And I am. But I don’t want you to leave.” Suddenly, he put his arms around Alex and pulled him close. “I want you to stay here, with me,” he finished.

“Me too.” Alex pressed his face into John’s shoulder. He could smell leftover gunpowder from that morning’s duel. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave the revolution.” His voice rose in pitch and volume. “I can’t leave the only place I’ve ever belonged, John, I can’t leave you and Laf and Hercules, I can’t, I can’t--”

“Shhh,” John said quickly. Alex took a deep breath. John squeezed his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on his back with the other hand. “Maybe Washington is right,” he continued gently. “I’d certainly prefer you to be sitting safely in the city than out here. This keeps happening, Alex, and it’s getting worse. We both know it’s getting worse.”

“It’ll keep getting worse wherever I am,” Alex told him. “And it’s not like it’s particularly safe out here for you, either.”

“That’s true,” acknowledged John. “But it’s different.”

“How is it different?” Alex snapped.

“Please don’t argue with me,” John pleaded. “Please. You’re right, it shouldn’t be different. But Washington thinks it is, and that’s all that matters right now. You don’t have a choice. So please. Can we just make the most of it?”

Alex hesitated. This was agony. This was more painful than the pain in his chest, than the heat of his burning skin. The thought of leaving John, of not seeing him for months, until the end of the war, maybe never again… “I guess,” he whispered reluctantly. He clung to John tightly, not wanting to let go. But eventually, he was going to have to.

The next morning, he would leave in the horse-drawn cart that Washington had arranged for him. He would be alone. It would take two days to reach the city, and Alex wouldn’t sleep at all. Eliza Schuyler and her two sisters would be waiting for him. He would only say a few words to each of them as they offered to take him to Lafayette’s house, and would then go on alone.

He would sit at Lafayette’s desk and write. He would write for hours and hours, letters and reflections and essays and ramblings that would make no sense. He would keep writing until he fell asleep, and then would continue to write when he woke up. And he would wait. He would wait for any news of the war, for any indication that Washington would let him back into the fight.

It didn’t come. For months, it didn’t come. Alex wrote letters to John, to Lafayette, and to Hercules, begging all three to convince the General to ask him to come back, but his friends were never successful in doing so.

John apologized profusely in his letters, which were not frequent or long, but Alex would reread them over and over again. The language in them was soft and passionate, although none explicitly referred to his and Alex’s relationship for fear of the letters being read by someone else. Alex was slightly less cautious, and John was forced to tell him to tone it down because Lafayette would try to read the letters over John’s shoulder.

Alex had to laugh when he read that. He could picture it, Lafayette sneaking up behind John and reading his letters before John reached back and shoved him away without even looking at him. Lafayette would probably laugh and wander away, but come back later to ask John who he was writing to who said such loving and passionate things. John would probably just glare until the Frenchman gave up and walked away, most likely to go and speculate with Hercules about the love life of their more secretive friend.

No longer laughing, Alex wished he was with them. He missed them so much, it was like a piece of himself was missing. It didn't hurt as much as missing his mother or Nevis, of course, but it was a dull, persistent ache. He grew very close to Eliza and her sisters, and they were always dropping by and spending time with him. He appreciated them keeping him company, but at the end of the day he preferred to be alone with his thoughts.

News about the war fluctuated. Sometimes, victory seemed assured for the revolution, and Alex would receive jubilant letters proclaiming that he would see his friends soon, that they would be home before the week’s end. Other times, it seemed certain that the revolutionaries were going to be crushed so soundly that the letters were basically saying goodbye. But they never won, and they never lost, and yet Alexander started to lose hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys. So...there are a lot of things I want to say, and there aren't enough words in the whole world to say them properly. So I guess...I guess I'll just say this. We are fighting a war, too. And there are victories and there are losses and sometimes it seems like our only option is to lose hope. Saturday night/Sunday morning...well, that was a loss. A big loss. Fifty people died and fifty-three were wounded in that battle. [Here](http://www.cityoforlando.net/blog/victims/) are their names. Remember them, okay? And remember that it isn't just the LGBT+ community that suffered here, it's the Latinx and black communities, and it's the Muslim community because of all the hateful rhetoric that's going to be spewed about Muslim people because of who the shooter was. It hurts. It hurts so, so badly, and I can't even tell you how much it hurts but I know you understand, because you feel it, too. But as we look forward into the rest of Pride Month, as we look at the people showing love and support and so, _so_ much bravery...Well, that is a WIN. Everyone's saying it, I know, but we have to make love win.
> 
> However, I disagree with something else people are saying, that it's hate we need to fight. But hate isn't the opposite of love. The opposite of love is _indifference_. It's people not caring enough to make a change. There will always be people who hate people who are different, and it's nearly impossible to change their views. But if we can change the views of the people who don't know, who don't care, if we can _make_ them care...I think only then can we change the world.
> 
> Anyway, that's what I had to say. I hope you liked this chapter. Leave a comment if you want, and I welcome people offering support for everyone during this awful period of anger and grief and mourning even more than I welcome feedback and compliments of my silly little story. Please come and talk to me on tumblr if you need someone to talk to, if you need someone to be angry with or if you need encouragement or comfort. Stay safe. Stay brave. You are valid. You are wonderful. I love you.
> 
> I love you.  
> ~Clare


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Then one day, there was a knock at the door. Alex looked up from his writing, startled. He went to the door and opened it, expecting to see one of the Schuyler sisters, though they had said they would leave him alone for the day. But instead, standing there looking very tired and worse for wear, was Lafayette.

“Alexander,  _ mon cher _ ,” Lafayette said hesitantly.

Getting over his initial shock, Alex replied, “This is your house, you know. You didn't need to knock.”

“May I come in?”

Alex tried to stave away the bit of panic that was setting in at the Frenchman’s somber tone. “Like I said, this is your house,” he repeated, and led him inside. Lafayette didn't say anything else until they were both sitting down in the parlor. “What happened?” Alex dared to ask finally. “What are you doing here?” Lafayette’s face betrayed that something was very wrong. He wouldn't meet Alex’s eyes. “Lafayette,  _ tell _ me,” insisted Alex.

“Alex…” Lafayette mumbled. “Charleston...three days ago. There was a battle...oh,  _ mon cher petit lion _ , our John…”

Alex couldn't breathe. “What about him?” he choked out.

Lafayette put his head in his hands. “He was taken prisoner.”

_ Not dead. He's not dead. _ “Oh. Oh. Okay.” Alex tried to calm down. “Um. Where is he now? Is Hercules alright? Washington? Are we going to get John back? Can we do an exchange for him? Are we losing now?”

“Shhh,” Lafayette said quickly. “Slow down, Alex. Hercules is fine. The General is fine. We don't know exactly where John is, and we  _ do _ intend to get him back. We have some prisoners, too, that we can do an exchange with. We are only waiting for the British to contact us.” Alex said nothing, staring straight ahead. “Alex?” Lafayette prompted worriedly. “Alex,  _ mon ami _ , are you alright? I know this is a lot to take in. I know you and our John…”

“Me and John what?” Alex snapped. He froze, realizing he shouldn't have been so defensive. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I just…” Suddenly, he stood up and fled to his room, ignoring Lafayette calling after him.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid,  _ he chided himself as he closed the door behind him and sat down on his bed.  _ He's figured it out, he found out, he knows. _ Those thoughts just kept circling round and round in his head, getting faster and louder and drowning everything else out.

“Alex!” Lafayette cried. Somehow, he was standing right next to Alex, taking his shoulders and shaking him gently to make him come back to the present. “Are you alright? Talk to me,  _ mon ami _ .” Alex shoved him away. “We are going to get him back,” Lafayette reassured him, taking a step back. “Don’t worry,  _ cher _ .”

“I’m not…” Alex was breathing too quickly. “Worried about  _ that _ .”

“Then what is the problem? What makes you frightened so?” Lafayette reached out to touch his shoulder again, but Alex flinched away. He could feel his magic start to rise up, the need to defend himself overwhelming him. If Lafayette knew...He would hate them, he would hate Alex and John alike. And Alex couldn’t be responsible for that. He had to do something. He had to protect himself. “Alex!  _ Ne pas inquièter, mon ami. Calmez-vous. Tu as bien _ ,” Lafayette said urgently. “Your hands are glowing, please stop before you hurt yourself!”

Alex looked down. Sure enough, the beginnings of flames were starting to lick up around his fingers. His second heart felt like it was under so much pressure it would explode, a cannonball filled with gunpowder and shrapnel tossed into a fire. “I…” A sudden rush of dizziness washed over him, leaving blackness in its wake.

Fear plagued him even in unconsciousness. All he was aware of was a constant, extreme tension for ages, which eventually gave way to a stream of nightmares. A storm, the lightning and thunder surrounding him. A battle, sparks and cannonfire and screams. John hating him, betraying him, leaving, dying. Everything...everything was on fire.

_ “John...John, it burns,” Alex murmured. “Help me, please. I’m burning.” _

_ But John just stood there, not helping him. He wasn’t rushing to come put out the fire, to comfort him, to assist him in any way. “Then burn,” he said. His voice was ice cold. _

_ “Please. Please, I thought...I thought you loved me,” Alex begged. “You wouldn’t leave me like this...I  _ know _ you. You wouldn’t.” _

_ “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything. If you still think I loved you, you know nothing. It was all a mistake, you know  _ that _ much. Surely, even  _ you _ don’t think it was the right thing to do.” _

_ “I thought…” The pain was almost too much to think through. “No, this isn’t...it can’t be real. You love me. Please, John, make it stop hurting.” _

_ “Keep begging,” John snapped. “I’m not moving.” _

_ “Please!” Alex was being consumed by the fire. He couldn’t even see John’s face anymore as the heat and the roar of the flames engulfed him. Then the fire began to spread. It rushed away from Alex and towards John, and John began to scream. _

_ “Alex! Alex, please! Help!” _

_ “JOHN!” The fire had left him alone and was now only attacking John. Alex tried to run forward, but every step he took carried him backwards. _

_ “ALEX! PLEASE, HELP ME!” _

_ Rain began to fall, pattering down onto the scorched ground, putting out the flames. Finally, Alex could rush closer to John, but the rain was falling too quickly. The water on the ground rose up until it was past Alex’s ankles, then knees, then all the way to his waist. Before he knew it, he was drowning in the freezing liquid and John was slipping under the surface. Alex held his breath, diving under after him. He searched, but it was too dark and he couldn’t find John. He had just disappeared. “John! John, answer me!” Alex wailed. “John, please don’t go!” _

_ The water wasn’t cold anymore. It was steaming, boiling. Then a cool hand pulled him, gasping, to the surface. He clung to it desperately. _

“Alex, are you awake? Alex! Shh,  _ mon ami _ , it is alright. Please wake up.” Lafayette was pleading with him. When had Lafayette gotten there? Was he drowning, too?

“John...got to save…” Alex mumbled.

“Hush, now. John is going to be fine.”

“Drowning...burning.”

“Not anymore,” Lafayette soothed. “Everything’s fine. You’re not on fire, you only have a fever, my friend. I’m trying to bring it down, but you are not being very responsive to anything I try.”

“John?” Alex asked again.

Lafayette sighed. His hand was on Alex’s forehead, and he smoothed back Alex’s damp hair. “I told you,  _ mon cher _ , our John has been taken prisoner, but we are going to get him back. All will be well.”

“But do you…” Alex closed his mouth quickly.  _ No, we can’t say that. Can’t let anyone know.  _ “Can’t say that.”

“ _ Mon cher _ , you can tell me anything. But perhaps we should wait to have this talk a little later, when you are feeling better. Just know now that whatever you are too frightened to tell me...it is alright. It’s alright.” Lafayette sounded almost exasperated. “You worry so much, but you never think of anything good that could happen. Now, shh. I want you to rest. I have sent for Eliza. She is going to come and see if she can do anything to help you. We need you alive,  _ mon ami _ .”

Alex didn’t try to figure out what Lafayette had meant about something good happening. He just let himself slip back into sleep. Thankfully, his nightmares were much more mild this time. When next he woke, he didn’t feel like his skin was burning. He could even open his eyes, although the room was very dark. He tried to call out, but all that came out was a slight cough. “L-Laf?” he tried again.

“It’s Eliza,” the young woman replied. Alex blinked and turned his head. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he began to be able to make out her outline. She was sitting next to him. “Would you like me to call Lafayette? He’s just downstairs, Alexander.”

“No...that’s okay.” Alex tried to focus. “What…”

“Lafayette doesn’t know exactly why, but you got very upset earlier. He was quite distressed when I arrived, after he sent his young neighbor to find me. We’ve brought your fever down and I’ve managed to even stabilize your magic a little bit. At least, I think I have. It was very difficult, but I’ve mended a few of the cracks in your second heart. Alexander, you’ve been unconscious for nearly two days.”

Alex puzzled over that. It hadn’t seemed that long. Anything could have happened in two days! “The war?”

“Nothing has changed.” Eliza laid her hand on his forehead. “Your fever is gone,” she observed. “How do you feel?”

Assessing the ache all over his body, Alex came to the conclusion that it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” Eliza sighed. “You gave us quite a scare. I'll be right back, dear. I'm going to get Lafayette, he told me to fetch him if you woke up or started talking in your sleep. He wants to talk to you.”

Alex’s breath caught in his throat. He gave Eliza a panicked look.

“I'm sure it was nothing bad,” Eliza reassured. “You have nothing to worry about.” Her hand lingered on his head for a second as she stood up and walked out of the room.

Alex tried not to panic. Lafayette had told Eliza to get him if he started talking in his sleep. Had he been doing that? What had he said? What if he had given everything away? What if that was what Lafayette wanted to talk to him about? He sat up, just in case he needed to...well, he wasn't sure what he would do if Lafayette figured out about him and John. But he would have to do something.

“Alex!” Lafayette called as he came running into the room and over to the bed. “Alex,  _ mon cher _ , you are awake. Oh, but why are you trying to move? Lie back down,  _ mon petit lion _ . Why do you seem so nervous?”

“I'm not nervous,” replied Alex. But he didn't lie back down.

Lafayette sat down on the edge of the bed. Ignoring Alex’s slight apprehension, he grabbed Alex’s hand. “Alex,  _ mon cher _ , you do not need to be nervous. I believe we need to talk,  _ oui _ ?”

“No, I don't think so,” Alex countered quickly.

“Yes, we do,” Lafayette replied. “Alex, I think you misunderstand me. I already  _ know  _ about yourself and John.”

Alex froze. He stared blankly at his friend. “What?” he managed.

Lafayette squeezed his hand. “ _ Mon ami _ , I am not an idiot. Hercules and I have known for a while. You two weren't being as subtle as you thought you were, although I do not believe anyone else has noticed.”

Barely able to breathe, Alex could feel himself shaking.  _ Not as subtle as we thought. Not careful enough. They know, they know, they know.  _

“Oh! Oh, Alex, shh. No, no, it's alright. You cannot truly be so worried that I will take this badly, can you? It's alright.”

Alex couldn't accept that. The words Lafayette was saying just weren't making sense. It wasn't alright. How could it be alright? Lafayette sighed softly and sidled closer to Alex, putting his arms around him. Alex stiffened. “But…”

“It’s  _ alright _ . I should have told you sooner,  _ mon ami _ , and perhaps I could have prevented all of this unnecessary fear. But I am your friend, am I not? A poor friend I would be if I let this bother me. And you should not, either. Hercules and I keep your secret, better than you do. I am just glad that you and John have each other.” Lafayette tightened his hold around Alex, who finally let himself relax. “That is better,” his friend whispered.

“Really?” Alex had to make sure. “Everything’s...fine? You know...and you’re fine?” He couldn’t believe it.

“Really.”

Alex shook his head. “Promise?”

“I promise.” Lafayette made Alex lie down now, and Alex curled up with his head resting on Lafayette’s lap. “I also promise that we will get your John back, and we will let him know that it is alright, too. But for now, you should sleep some more. I have to return to the army within the next few days, so let us make the most of this time, no?”

“Okay.” Alex didn’t have the energy to protest. The rush of adrenaline that had come when he thought something terrible might happen had worn off, leaving him exhausted and relaxed. It didn’t hurt that Lafayette was rubbing his back softly and that the Frenchman’s breathing was slow and rhythmic, a perfect lullaby to fall asleep to. Well, almost perfect. Alex almost wished that it was John sitting there, but Lafayette was his best friend, a close second. This was fine. Yes, this was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey! Boy, do I love Lafayette. Can you tell? I think he's my favorite character to write. I also have to say, I took a lot of inspiration for his character from the amazing damn-man-ham-fam on tumblr's incredible fic [Rise Up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6080439/chapters/13936794) which is the bestest best fic ever and I highly suggest to everyone who reads my stories, check that one out, because without it I would probably never have started writing. Also, apologies in advance for any disruption to the updating schedule over the next month, I'm super busy and travelling around and I don't know exactly when I'll have WiFi. But I promise I will never be more than a day off schedule! Thanks for reading, please leave a comment if you liked the chapter, and as always come find me on tumblr. I love you, stay safe, drink lots of water, eat good food, give someone a hug (virtual or physical) and remember to take care of yourself. <3 ~Clare


	15. Chapter Fifteen

No news had come in by the time that Lafayette had to leave. Alex begged for Lafayette to take him back to the army with him, but Lafayette had refused.

“General Washington would murder me,” he had insisted. “And you. And I am not going to be responsible for that,  _ mon cher _ .”

Reluctantly, Alex had agreed. “But send me word immediately if you learn anything about John.”

Lafayette had sworn that he would, and then left.

But it wasn’t a letter from Lafayette that had come first--it was a letter from John. Alex nearly cried when he recognized John’s handwriting. The letter was short, only saying that John was being held in Philadelphia, was being treated kindly, and was fine. The note was written with a slightly detached air, telling Alex that the correspondence was being monitored. Alex wrote back immediately, telling John that they were doing everything they could to get him back. He posted the letter quickly.

Lafayette sent word the next day that they had made contact and were arranging an exchange. Alex didn't write back. He was done waiting for Washington to ask him to return. He was going back.

“Alexander, that's a terrible idea.”

Alex glared. Eliza had an expression of pure exasperation on her face. “I don’t care.”

“The General’s going to send you right back home again,” Eliza told him.

“I don’t care,” Alex repeated stubbornly. “I want to be there when they make the exchange. I haven’t seen my friends, except Laf, for months.”

She groaned. “Well, I can't stop you. But Alex? Be careful.”

Alex left the next day. He borrowed a horse from Eliza’s father to ride to Philadelphia. When he finally arrived at the rebel camp, about twenty miles outside of the city, he realized that word must have been given by scouts of his approach, because waiting for him on the path stood Washington, Lafayette, and Hercules.

He brought the horse to a stop. Keeping a perfectly innocent look on his face, he waved to them as he dismounted. “Hello!” he called cheerfully.

Washington did  _ not _ look pleased. “Hamilton!” he barked. “I told you that you were to stay home until explicitly ordered to return.”

“Sorry, sir. But I couldn't sit idly any longer. Not with John captured.” Alex led his horse along the path towards the other three men. The General let out a tired sigh and turned away.

“Make yourself useful, then,” he muttered.

Alex couldn't help the rush of elation that accompanied the General’s words. “Really?!” he squeaked. “I mean,” he fumbled, clearing his throat. “That's all, sir?”

If Washington had been facing Alex, Alex would have seen a tiny smile on his face. But his words and tone continued to be stern as he walked away. “I expect your friends to keep you out of trouble. Goodnight, Alexander.”

“We will, sir,” Hercules called. Then he turned to Alex, sweeping him into a hug. Alex was lifted off his feet as his strong friend greeted him. “It's good to see you, kid!”

“Hercules,” Alex gasped. “Put me down.”

Laughing, Hercules dumped him unceremoniously to his feet. “Sorry.”

“It's fine--oof! Laf!” Now apparently it was Lafayette’s turn to hug him. “You saw me three weeks ago,” Alex complained.

“Yes, and I missed you,  _ mon ami _ !” He and Hercules were both grinning stupidly. Alex looked at them suspiciously as Lafayette released him.

“What's going on?” he said. “Why are you so happy?”

“Is it not enough that we have you back,  _ mon petit lion _ ?” Lafayette inquired innocently.

Alex squinted. “I don't know. But it seems like you're not telling me something.”

Hercules clapped him on the shoulder. “Let's get your horse over with the rest of them. The poor beast looks like it's gonna collapse. So do you, to be honest.”

“I've been riding all night and day,” Alex explained, following his friends to the camp. Hercules took the reins of the horse and tied it to a tree where a couple other horses already stood.

“Well, you must be exhausted. C’mon, this camp isn't fancy like the last one, you don't get your own office, but I hope you won't object to sharing a tent with your lowly friends again?” Hercules teased.

Alex rolled his eyes as he walked with his friends over to their tent. He pushed the canvas flap aside to go inside, saying, “Of course I don't mind, you id…” He ducked into the tent and stopped in his tracks.

“Hi, Alex.”

Alex stared. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the tent floor, on a bed roll, slightly tired looking but smiling, was the last person he expected to see. “J-John?” he managed.

“Hi,” John said again. He grinned wider. “Been awhile, hasn't it?”

“I-I, I mean…” Alex stuttered. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing. “But you…”

“I was exchanged two days ago. A scout told us you were riding here. We decided to surprise you,” John said gleefully.

Blinking slowly, Alex dropped to his knees in front of John. “I…” Suddenly not caring in the least that Lafayette and Hercules were standing behind them, laughing softly, he grabbed John’s face and kissed him passionately. They didn't break apart for nearly a minute, trying to make up for lost time.

Finally, John pulled back. “I missed you,” he said softly. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his eyes shining with emotion.

Alex couldn't even respond, just threw his arms around John and held him tightly.

“Oh, okay. I've got you. You okay?”

In response, Alex let out a quiet sob. He pressed his face into John’s coat, embarrassed. He didn't understand exactly why he was crying. “It's just…” he whispered. “I thought I might never see you again.”

“I wrote! I told you I was going to be fine. Alex, shh, it's okay!” But Alex couldn't stop. “Laf, Herc, help me,” John begged.

Alex dimly heard Lafayette kneel down and felt him pat his shoulder gently. “ _ Mon cher _ , it is alright. John is safe.”

He  _ knew _ that. Of course he did. But that didn't stop the fact that John was  _ there _ , warm and solid and alive and holding him after he had thought he might not ever see him again… “I'm okay,” he mumbled. “I'm okay.” He didn't make John let go of him, though. He was okay with staying like this forever. Finally, he knew he had to sit up. He wiped his eyes. “Sorry.” He looked over at Lafayette and Hercules, now realizing that he and John had never kissed in front of anyone before. Luckily, neither of their friends seemed shocked or put off.

“Don't apologize,” Lafayette told him. “It's alright.”

“Um, Laf and I are gonna give you two some space,” Hercules said. “Nobody else will come and bother you, either. Come on out for dinner soon, though.” He grinned and winked, ducking out of the tent. Lafayette gave them  _ a look _ and followed Hercules.

Alex looked slowly over towards John, who was bright red. He snorted and kissed John’s cheek. “My  _ God _ , you're beautiful,” he said.

That made John blush even harder. “Alex,” he murmured.

But Alex just couldn't stop staring. He hadn't seen John in months. He had almost forgotten how perfect he was. The pink in his cheeks made his dark brown freckles stand out, his eyes practically glow. And his lips were soft and brown and pink. “I mean it,” Alex insisted. “You are…” His voice trailed off.

John laughed. “ _ You  _ are speechless.”

“I am not.”

“You are. You actually are. I've rendered the great Alexander Hamilton speechless, just by existing. That's it, I've seen everything. You have all the words you could ever want, and more talent with them than anyone I've ever met, and  _ I  _ can make you speechless.” John looked incredibly proud of himself.

Alex thought quickly, pulling himself together. “All the skill with words in the collective mind of humanity and all of my magic could never even come close to accurately describing how perfect you are,” he said smoothly.

John blushed. Again. “I stand corrected,” he mumbled.

Alex smirked. “Actually, you're sitting corrected.”

John punched him lightly. “Shut up, you…”

“You what?”

Glaring playfully, John shoved him over. Alex toppled, but not without pulling John down with him.

“Now we're lying corrected,” Alex laughed.

“Shut  _ up _ ,” John repeated.

“Or what?” Alex teased, holding John down so he couldn't sit up and move away.

John got a mischievous look in his eyes. He poked Alex’s side lightly, and Alex squeaked. “You should have thought more carefully before pulling me down on top of you,” he threatened.

“What're you gonna do about it?” Alex said defiantly.

Moving swiftly, John pinned Alex down. “Did you forget I grew up with two little brothers? You might have your words, Alex, but you're small.” John's knee was resting on his chest. Alex was helpless.

“Didn't Hercules say something about dinner? I haven't eaten all day,” he said quickly, before John could further his attack.

John’s expression changed from amused to concerned. “Alex! Why didn't you say that earlier?”

Alex shrugged. “Didn't occur to me. C’mon, I  _ am _ hungry.”

Late that evening, John and Alex excused themselves from dinner, claiming fatigue. “Guess what?” John said.

“What?”

John smiled. “We aren't sleeping on opposite sides of the tent anymore.”

Alex laughed. “Did you talk to Laf and Hercules about all this?” he wondered, sitting down on his bed roll.

John sat across from him. “A little. They already knew, apparently.”

“I heard,” Alex sighed. “It really scared me for a while.”

“Yeah, Lafayette told me what happened.” John looked at him carefully. “Are you alright now?”

Alex shrugged uncomfortably. “Kind of. It's weird.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I just didn't expect them to be so... _ okay  _ with us,” Alex confessed.

“Me neither. But it's a nice surprise.” John yawned. “Alex, I love you. And I missed you, and I want to keep talking to you for hours. But I'm so tired.”

“Me too,” Alex said. “Do you think…” He hesitated.

John understood. He pulled Alex into his arms, and they laid down together. “I think they aren't gonna say anything when they see,” he whispered into Alex’s ear. “I think we can do this as much as we want now.”

Alex snuggled close to him. “Good.” 

“One word? Is that all I’m getting?”

“I'm trying to sleep.” Alex huffed and closed his eyes. John stifled a giggle. “John Laurens, I swear to all that is good, if you start this again, you will regret it.”

“Will I?”

“Yes. You will.”

“Sounds scary. Whatcha gonna do?” John teased.

Alex flipped over to face him and kissed him soundly. “If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna keep doing that and then you won’t be  _ able _ to talk.”

John bit his lower lip. “I wouldn’t complain…”

Alex rolled his eyes. He really did want to sleep. “Go to sleep.”

John propped his head up, smirking. “Nah, I’m not tired anymore.”

“Well, I am,” Alex said decisively. He flipped over and closed his eyes. A moment later, he almost yelped in surprise as John’s arms snaked around his middle.

“Shh,” John said. “It’s okay.” He tugged Alex closer, so Alex was nestled close to his chest. “That’s all,” he murmured. “Go to sleep.”

“I’m  _ trying _ ,” groaned Alex. Secretly, he didn’t mind any of this. He was just thrilled that he had John back, and that he  _ actually _ had John. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Go to  _ sleep _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer battery is almost dead and I've been rly busy all day, this is gonna be a brief note. Anyway, I enjoyed this chapter. Maybe tell me what parts you liked so I could give you more in the future? That would be great. And all my lovely, beautiful readers, remember to drink water, eat enough food, get sleep, take your meds, give someone a hug, and remember that you are absolutely amazing and I love you so much. <3 ~Clare


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Alex closed his eyes, held his breath. He savored the last moments of quiet he may ever get to hear before shouting the order. “FIRE!”

The sound of the muskets and cannons all firing at once flooded his senses. It was louder than any other battle he had ever been in, and the screams of the ambushed British soldiers added to the din. As Alex reloaded his musket and aimed, reloaded and aimed, reloaded and aimed, he reflected that while this was terribly loud, it didn’t even come close to when he had gone to watch the Liberty Bell ring for the first time. He had been standing so close, and as the rope was pulled to sound it, the cheers and roars of the crown of revolutionaries standing around the spectacle had been drowned out by the peals of the bell. And then, over the last echoing clang, a thunderous crack had reverberated over all of their heads. Everyone’s hands had clapped over their ears. Some screamed. The bell cracked right down the side, but it didn’t fall apart. Many perceived that as an omen. The revolution might have been weak and crumbling and doubtful to succeed, but damn if they didn’t make an awful lot of noise doing it.

It took three weeks of fighting. Exhausted, living moment to moment, Alex wondered if he really was still alive. Everything turned into a blur of screams and smoke, gunshots and blood.

But on the morning of the twentieth day, a drummer stepped out of the city, a man behind him frantically waving the white handkerchief of surrender. Alex watched in a daze, barely comprehending what he was seeing. They had...won?

Washington and several other generals and soldiers disappeared into the city to negotiate the terms of surrender. Alex wandered around, making sure his men were getting proper medical attention. Some of the soldiers were staring straight ahead, not showing any sort of emotion. Several were crying, relieved that it was finally over. Some were laughing, hugging each other, then breaking when they realized that one of their friends hadn’t made it. Alex watched them numbly. He knew how they felt.

Eventually, the British were led out of the city as prisoners. Washington hadn’t allowed them the privileges that surrender usually entailed, it seemed. They weren’t carrying their flags, their bayonets were pointed down. But most shockingly, Alex noticed that the fifers and drummers weren’t playing an American or French song that they normally would to honor their vanquishers. They were playing a British tune. Alex recognized it. It was  _ The World Turned Upside Down _ .

Many people were singing along with it as they marched past. “The world turned upside down…” But to Alex’s surprise, it wasn’t only the British singing. His own men were joining in.

It was a fitting tune, Alex reflected. The world had turned upside down that day. Shouts filled the air as the French troops joined Alex’s forces, coming up from the bay. At the head of the column of French soldiers ran Lafayette, grinning broadly. As Alex, suddenly filled with energy, ran to meet him, he noticed the two people running behind Lafayette. Hercules Mulligan, and…

“John?!” shouted Alex.

John looked incredibly happy. “We won!” he cried.

“We won!” echoed Hercules.

“We won!” Lafayette repeated, as he and Alex practically collided, John and Hercules wrapping their arms around the other two and squeezing like their lives depended on it. Alex was enveloped in his friends’ embrace, elated and exhausted and slightly giddy.

“We won!” he agreed happily. And then the entirety of the past three weeks and all of the exertion and lack of sleep and pain that Alex had experienced caught up with him, and the world turned upside down.

 

“And you're sure it's not his magic?”

Alex’s eyelashes fluttered as he came to.

“I'm sure. Has anyone made him sleep at all while the siege was happening?” That was John. 

“I don't think so,” Lafayette sighed. “I don't know.”

“No, they didn't,” Alex mumbled. He opened his eyes. John was there, looking down at him, their faces a few inches apart. “When the hell did you get here, anyway?”

John glanced around before leaning down and kissing Alex quickly. “That's a nice hello,” he said. “You faint on me and then don't even bother to say hi? I missed you? Anything?”

Alex looked around, too. They must have carried him inside somewhere, since he was lying on a couple of chairs. It reminded him of the first time he had met them all, and waking up on the row of chairs in Eliza’s house. How far he had come since then. Lafayette and Hercules stood back a bit, giving him and John some space. “Hi,” he replied to John. “I missed you. When the hell did you get here?”

John laughed. “Two days ago. I heard about the fighting. Couldn't let you three have all the fun, could I? But when I got here, it was already mostly over anyway. I joined Laf, because the road all the way here was too dangerous. I would have joined you if I could have.”

Alex frowned. “Are  _ you _ okay? I know battles are hard for you.” He searched John’s face for any indication that he was feeling everyone's pain, but John looked surprisingly okay.

“I'm fine, Alex. It's you I'm worried about. You did just pass out,” John reminded him.

“I noticed,” Alex said dryly. “I'm okay. A little...well, exhausted. Also I'm not sure when I ate last...or drank water, come to think of it.”

John groaned. “You are  _ impossible _ .”

“I do my best,” Alex said, winking.

Lafayette held out a canteen of water to John, who took it gratefully and made Alex drink some of it. Alex tried to raise his head so he could actually swallow, but the world started spinning and he decided tiny sips would do for now. “Now, you idiot. The war is over. We won, we made it,” John said. “What's next?”

Alex thought about that for a minute. “You want to go home?” he asked.

John smiled sadly. “Alex, I would love to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely, beautiful readers. We're nearing the end of this tale, but there are still a few twists and turns left. How do you suppose it'll turn out? Points to you and a free ficlet in whatever 'verse and whatever prompt you want to whoever guesses closest to what actually is going to happen. Love and hugs to all of you, stay hydrated, get some sleep, and tell someone that you love them. Do something brave, no matter how big or little that brave thing is. If you need bravery to do it, even if someone else can do it seemingly easily, that's okay. I'm really proud of you and I love you very much. <3 ~Clare


	17. Chapter Seventeen

As it turned out,  _ home _ was going to continue to be Lafayette’s house. John, it seemed, had been staying with Hercules before the war. Alex wondered why he had never asked about where John lived before. But while having one person sleeping in the hidden basement of his tailor shop was bearable for Hercules, having two was...less so. Lafayette welcomed them with open arms, however, and seemed absolutely thrilled at the whole prospect. He tried to get Hercules to move in as well, but the tailor had refused. “I don't feel the need to spend  _ all _ my time with a babbling French idiot and his adopted kids,” he had joked.

If Lafayette had been annoyed by the insult, he didn't show it. “That's alright! I would have to get another spare room anyway,” he had replied.

It had taken a little while to get used to the war being over. Alex would still sometimes forget that he had made it, and would realize again that he was alive in a great revelation. Several times, he had to go run and find John, just to grab him by the shoulders and, laughing breathlessly, shout, “I'm alive! John, I'm  _ alive _ !”

“I know you are!” John would respond, and would kiss him. “I'm so glad.”

They would spend the days with Hercules, Lafayette, and the Schuylers. Even Aaron Burr, sometimes, since Alex was working on getting into the University. From October to July, life was better than Alex had ever dreamed it would be.

But good times cannot last forever, of course. Alex had never been so naive as to believe that, though he had dared to hope. When a letter came requesting John’s presence and help in South Carolina with driving out the last of the British soldiers still making any kind of resistance, Alex bid him farewell with a fake smile on his face. When John had finally actually ridden away, Alex collapsed on the floor of their bedroom, his back to the door, holding it closed while he sobbed so Lafayette couldn't get into the room to try and comfort him. 

For the first time in a few months, Alex used his magic that day. He held the letter that had taken John away from him again in one hand, crumpled. He had set it ablaze rashly. When Lafayette finally managed to open the door, he had found Alex unconscious on the floor, the smoking ashes of the paper next to him. He had sighed and cursed in French, deploring Alex’s idiocy and stubbornness and all manner of other things.

Several days later, Alex got an awful feeling in his chest. It wasn't pain so much as intense fear, like he was falling. He was standing in the parlor at the time, and nearly fell over, crying out.

Lafayette rushed in immediately. “Alex!  _ Mon ami _ , what is wrong? Alex!”

Alex couldn't breathe. “I...I don't know,” he gasped. “It's…”

“Is it your magic? Oh, would that John or Eliza were here,” he lamented, holding Alex upright.

“It’s John,” Alex exclaimed suddenly. He didn't know how he knew, but he was absolutely certain. “Something’s wrong with John, or it's going to be, or…” He broke off as the wave of panic rolled over him again, and he doubled over with a gasp.

“ _ Mon cher _ , what are you talking about? Alex, please breathe, calm down.” Lafayette led him over to a chair and made him sit down, then knelt in front of him. “Alex, what do you mean?”

“I can feel it! Something’s wrong!” Alex wailed. “Laf, I need to, I need to go find him, I have to help him.”

“ _ Cher _ , he is in South Carolina. It would take a few days to ride there, and I'm not sure you should be going anywhere with how you are acting right now,” Lafayette said bluntly. “You are worrying me, Alexander.”

Alex took a deep, shaky breath. “I have to go,” he said in a more steady voice. “He needs me.”

Lafayette looked at him helplessly, then something shifted. He nodded. “Then, by all means, my friend.  _ Allons-y _ . Let us go and save your John.”

“You believe me?” Alex wondered.

“ _ Oui _ , of course I believe you. I have not doubted you before, have I? We will set out as soon as I fetch Hercules.” Lafayette stood up, patting Alex’s knee. “Will you be alright alone? Pack up, it will be a long ride.”

Alex gaped at him. He hadn't expected Lafayette to propose going with him, much less bringing Hercules, too. Lafayette noticed his shocked face and laughed.

“He is our friend, too,” he reminded Alex. “I am just glad that you understand when he is in trouble.” Suddenly, he looked worried. “This will not strain you, will it? Whatever it is you're doing, being in contact with John, will it hurt your second heart?”

“It isn't hurting. Not like that. I'm fine, just hurry. Go. We need to leave now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry about missing the last two updates--I've been off WiFi on a road trip! So here are the two chapters, you get both in one night. Tell me what you thought! As always, I love you very much and I'm hoping that you take care of yourself. I'm proud of you for making it through everything so far, I have faith that you can keep going, and I'm really glad that you exist. <3 ~Clare


	18. Chapter Eighteen

It took nearly twelve days to ride to where John was supposed to be. By asking around, they figured out that John and his group of men were near the Combahee River. There had been several small skirmishes over the past few days, but nobody had gotten killed yet.

“ _ Cher _ , what if you were wrong, and John is fine?” Lafayette pointed out sensibly.

But Alex shook his head. “I’m not wrong. John’s in danger.”

“You got that...feeling twelve days ago, Alex. Are you  _ sure _ ?”

“I  _ know _ it was twelve days ago. But what would be the point if it wasn’t telling me that I had to leave then? Please, just trust me, Laf.”

Lafayette dropped it as they rode along through the forest towards the river in search of John. Hercules was about to say something when Alex cried out. A sharp wave of the same panic he had felt before they had left bubbled in his chest. “Alex?” Hercules demanded.

“He’s in trouble  _ now _ !” Alex shouted.

At that very moment, gunshots rang out through the trees. Alex’s horse startled underneath him, as she had never been in the war and hadn’t encountered guns before. But Alex managed to hold on and get her running in the directions the shots were coming from and Lafayette and Hercules followed.

Suddenly, Alex’s horse stopped, refusing to go on further despite all Alex’s urging. Making a split second decision, he dismounted and, tying the mare’s reins to a tree branch quickly, began to run.

“ _ Arrȇtez _ !” Lafayette shouted frantically. “Alex, stop!”

He didn’t stop. The waves of panic were getting stronger and stronger and he could hear the river, as well as continuing musket shots and shouts. He recognized John’s voice in the melee, and ran faster. He almost tripped over a root but managed to keep to his feet.

Bursting through a thick row of brush, Alex stopped short. Ahead of him raged a battle, small but vicious. Nobody seemed to see him standing there. He saw John on his horse, another officer also on horseback, and several American soldiers firing into the trees at red-clad British soldiers. As Alex watched, horrified, one of the British officers took careful aim directly at John.

Time seemed to slow down. Alex could tell that the bullet was going to find its mark if fired. He didn’t know how, but he knew. Blood pounded in his ears. His hands flew out instinctively and he opened his mouth as if to warn John, but his voice had deserted him. Now, of all times, his words were failing him.

Alex knew that this was what he had been getting warnings of. This was the moment. He saw the British soldier’s finger find the trigger. A surge of heat swelled up in Alex’s chest, prickling and burning his skin and eyes. It felt like he had swallowed a flaming lantern which was now still blazing in the place where his second heart sat. The cracks in his second heart widened and an agonizing pain shot through him. He held on, though, he had to.

The British soldier was pulling the trigger. Alex’s eyesight was sharpened and time still seemed to be slow. He saw every rotation of the spherical musketball, a smooth bullet, poorly designed so as to not be very accurate or have a very far range. The soldier couldn’t have expected to actually hit John, of course. But Alex knew that pure chance would guide the bullet to its final resting place, deep in John’s chest. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

With all of the force and energy of the magic that had gathered and grown in his chest over the past fraction of a second, Alex stared at the bullet. Heat built up behind his eyes. Suddenly, there was a great rush of pain and relief as Alex sent the bundle of energy into the bullet and knocked it off course by several inches.

It didn’t find its mark. It grazed past John’s arm and the young man didn’t even take any notice of it. Alex had just enough time to smile in relief before the pain was too much and the world in front of him went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))) Thoughts? <3 ~Clare


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Alex drifted in and out of consciousness, burning and freezing and in more pain than he had been in since first breaking his second heart after his mother’s death. Often, he could feel phantom hands on his forehead or holding his hand. He clung to those moments. They were a nice distraction from the white-hot muddle that was his mind.  
  
Mostly there was silence, or a constant dull roaring that permeated every inch of his being. He thought that it might have been his own heartbeat, but he wasn’t quite sure. He wasn’t sure of anything. Sometimes, though, he thought he heard people talking. He listened intently. Words were more pleasant to listen to than the roaring, and he liked the voices, too.  
  
“John, I don’t think that would work…”  
  
“Eliza, I have to try something.”  
  
“He is dying, cherie. Perhaps John is correct.”  
  
“The kid is burning up. If we don’t do something now, he might never wake up.”  
  
I’m awake, Alex wanted to tell them. They sounded worried about him. They shouldn’t have been. He had lived far longer than he had ever expected to, and he would be dying with his friends by his side. That was more than he had ever dared to hope for. But the voices slipped back into the muted drumming of noise. The next Alex heard was whispered, hushed, as if they didn’t want him or someone else to hear.  
  
“Mon ami, if Eliza says it is too dangerous…”  
  
“I don’t care. I don’t care. I can’t let him die.”  
  
“John, she says you might die if you try it! Now, I dunno about you, but Alex would never forgive himself if that happened. You think you’re willing to take the chance of the kid hating himself for the rest of his life, even if you did manage to heal him?”  
  
“I would rather that than he be dead,” John said flatly. Alex could have cried. Didn’t John know that Alex had known what would happen by moving that bullet?  
  
“Just don’t do something that you might regret, mon cher,” Lafayette murmured.  
  
Alex tried to hold on to his consciousness for a moment longer, needing to know what they were talking about. He prayed that John wasn’t putting himself in danger for Alex’s sake. But then the silence returned. It was heavier and quieter than it had been before. Alex could feel himself slipping away, deeper and deeper and deeper…  
  
The silence was so loud. He wished that he could hear his friends talking again, or even his own thoughts. But the heat dissipated and scattered them until they were just vague whispers of ideas, floating around the molten metal of his mind. The sound of silence drowned everything else out, though, and Alex struggled to remember anything he had ever heard that was louder.  
  
Oh, yes. The bell. That was louder than this was, wasn’t it? It had to be. Surely the sound had to be louder than the silence. But then, didn’t cold burn like fire? And extreme exhaustion gives the illusion of having boundless energy. Perhaps all extremes, then, are alike. Perhaps all opposites are, in truth, identical. Except love and hate. Those weren’t the same.  
  
Of course, the opposite of love isn’t truly hatred, is it? It’s indifference. Because to hate something, one has to care about it. There isn’t any point in hating something one doesn’t care about one way or another. So perhaps love and hate are the same, and it’s only indifference that bridges them and becomes their opposite.  
  
Indifference was something that Alex had never known. He had always, always felt something about everything. Usually, that feeling was either love or hatred. He loved John. He loved Lafayette, and Hercules, and Eliza, and the General, and his mother, and Nevis, and America.  
  
His friends and his homes.  
  
One in the same, really.  
  
He hated cruelty. He hated slavery, and pain, and needless bloodshed, and ignorance, and indecisiveness, and apathy.  
  
Evil and indifference…  
  
One in the same, really.  
  
Silence and the deafening peals of a breaking bell. Ice and the burning heat of his skin. Fatigue and the limitless vitality that seemed to always walk hand in hand.  
  
One in the same, really.  
  
Life and death.  
  
One in the same, really.  
  
Might as well accept it. Perhaps in death, the silence would be silence. Perhaps then his mind would finally quiet. He was ready. He would find peace on the other side, perhaps. Even if John wouldn’t be there...Oh, well. He could wait. He was good at waiting.  
  
The silence settled into quiet. The white-hot brightness that had permeated his sleep for ages faded to dark grey. He got ready to embrace the quiet when…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy friends. Hope you like cliffhanger? It might be a while before the last chapter, though. Sorry. No idea if I'll have WiFi on Friday. We'll see. Also, you have no idea how proud I am of this chapter. Love you all!!! Take care of yourself, stay safe. Tell someone you love them and give them a hug (virtual or physical). Stay hydrated, eat something yummy. You're really cute, wow! And super super valid, like, you're actually so great. *hugs* I love you so much and I'm so proud of you! <3 ~Clare


	20. Chapter Twenty

_previously_

* * *

 

_Might as well accept it. Perhaps in death, the silence would be silence. Perhaps then his mind would finally quiet . He was ready. He would find peace on the other side, perhaps. Even if John wouldn’t be there...Oh, well. He could wait. He was good at waiting._

_The silence settled into quiet. The white-hot brightness that had permeated his sleep for ages faded to dark grey. He got ready to embrace the quiet when..._

* * *

 

A shattering sound pierced every fiber of his being. The chill that had set into his body was suddenly chased away by a warmth that whispered and breathed comforts, and it felt like John. If it weren’t for the shattering sound that just kept growing louder and stronger and more intense, Alex would have wondered if this was supposed to be heaven.

But the thunderous sound sang of pain and love and heartbreak and it sang louder and louder. It was _louder_ than the crack in the bell.

As life flooded back into Alex’s mind and body, he realized what the sound was, where the warmth was coming from. John’s second heart was breaking as he brought Alex back to life.

“ _NO!_ ” Alex screamed.

He sat bolt upright. His chest ached like a healing broken bone, past the point where it hurt but not quite better. He panted. Tears stung the corner of his eyes. Slowly, he looked down. Down past the edge of the bed he was lying in, down to the floor.

John lay there in a crumpled heap. For a second, Alex could only stare. Then a cry tore its way out of his throat, calling for someone, anyone.

“ _HELP!_ ”

Eliza burst into the room. She took in the situation at a glance and rushed to John’s side. “I _told_ him not to do it,” she said in distress. “I _told_ him!”

Alex could hardly breathe. “Is he alive?” he choked out.

The young woman was pressing her fingers to John’s neck, checking for a pulse. There was an agonizing moment of quiet before she said, “Barely.”

Alex heaved a sigh of relief that turned into a sob. At that moment, Lafayette and Hercules ran into the room. Both were talking loudly and rapidly, demanding to know what was going on. They both looked like they had just woken up, bleary-eyed and disheveled and confused by the commotion.

It took a little while to explain and to figure out what had happened. A few minutes later, John was the one lying in the bed, burning with fever. Alex wondered if he, too, looked so still and deathly when he was unconscious. He sat in his desk chair, rocking slightly with worry.

Lafayette left Hercules and Eliza tending to John and came over to Alex. “ _Mon cher_ , how are you feeling?” he asked gently.

Alex just looked at him. The dull expression in his eyes must have been enough to tell Lafayette what he needed to know, because the Frenchman nodded quietly and leaned down to hug him.

“He is going to recover. Your John, he is strong. He would not want to leave you now, _mon petit lion_. Have faith.” Lafayette released him.

“I was…” Alex’s voice quivered as he spoke for the first time since shouting for help. He cleared his throat. “I was ready to go. To leave _him_. How do you know it’s not the same for him?”

Lafayette gave him a devastated look. “Please tell me you were not going to give up!” he begged. “Alexander, you weren’t.”

“I was,” Alex muttered, not meeting Lafayette’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Laf. But I’d rather it be me than him.”

“I think we all feel that way, _mon cher_. Rather us than our friends. John did. And if I could take all the suffering you two have been through onto myself, I would.” Lafayette glanced back at the bed, where Eliza was placing cold, damp cloths on John’s forehead.

Eliza turned towards Alex. “Do you understand what happened?” she asked him softly.

Alex nodded. “John healed me. But in doing so, he tried to do more than his magic was capable of. I was almost dead. He brought me back. Magic isn’t supposed to be able to do that.”

“You’re right. People who study magic don’t agree on much, and nobody understands it completely, but the one thing they all agree on is that bringing people back to life is a bad idea.”

“I know.” Alex knew that better than most people. He could still feel his mother’s cold hand in his as he tried desperately to pour his magic, his warmth and life, back into her, to make her breathe again, to open her eyes and tell him that it was alright. “Believe me, I know.”

Eliza’s eyes flashed with understanding. “And besides that, John's magic was never like this anyway. He's not able to manipulate the environment around him, he never has been. He always _just_ had sympathetic magic. I have no idea where the strength to heal you came from.”

Alex knew. But he didn't know if he wanted to explain. He was saved from having to choose by Hercules saying, “Um, Eliza? John’s moving.”

“A...Alex,” John whispered. With a gasp, Alex stood up and pushed past his friends to stand next to John.

“John?”

The unconscious man wasn't waking up, but was just talking in his sleep. He was tossing his head back and forth on the pillow, appearing to be in great distress. “Alex, no…”

Alex grabbed his hand, recognizing with despair how warm it was. “John, I'm right here. John, listen to me. It's alright.”

John clung to him like a lifeline, but settled down a little bit. “Everything...it's so hot,” he mumbled.

“I know. I know. You're on fire, I know. It hurts.” Alex kept his voice calm and level. He knew from experience that while John might not have been entirely conscious, calming words and hands were incredibly helpful. “But it's not gonna stay like this if you hold on. You'll wake up, and you won't be burning, and I'll be here. I promise you, I will be here. Just _please_ don't give up.” His desperation was so great that he could feel a bit of heat building up in his second heart. He braced himself for the pain that he was so used to having follow that feeling, but it didn't come.

He gasped softly as he realized. John hadn't just pulled him out of his illness and back from the brink of death. He had actually fixed the cracks in the casing of Alex’s second heart. Did that mean…

Hardly daring to hope, Alex lifted his hand up level with his eyes and stared at it. Just by focusing, he could lower the temperature of his palm to something so cold that it should have hurt, but it didn't. There was no pain that shot through his chest, nothing but the warm tingle that he remembered from doing magic before his mother died.

He pressed his palm to John’s forehead, willing it to cool John’s fever. Almost instantly, John let out a sigh of relief and relaxed, falling into a far more peaceful sleep. Alex gaped. He couldn't believe it. This was...incredible.

“Alexander?” Eliza said. “What did you just do?”

Alex looked back at her. In response, he held up his hand, switching it from cold to hot and making flames dance along his finger. “It's back,” he whispered. “I'm back.”

Eliza’s eyes widened. “He didn't just heal you from what happened at Combahee. He healed your magic.”

Alex nodded, slowly and carefully, as if moving too quickly might ruin everything. “The _idiot_ ,” he murmured fondly. “Why did you do that?” he addressed John. “Hmm? Why did you think that was necessary? You did know that would make everything a lot worse for you?” Wishing that John could actually answer him, Alex bent his head down to rest his forehead against John’s. With relief, he noticed that he had managed to bring John’s temperature down to a normal level.

As he stood there, his eyes closed, he could feel his magic swirling around inside him. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to let his magic move around without worrying about the pain that used to come along with it. It felt as natural as breathing.

Alex took a deep breath. He raised his head and brushed his lips against John’s forehead softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised. He rested his hand over the right side of John’s chest, above his second heart. He could feel the thrumming of John’s magic there, broken and struggling, fluttering like a bird with a broken wing. But Alex knew then that John was going to be fine. He was going to wake up soon, and it was going to be hard, but they would get through it. Alex could see it as clearly as anything in front of him, this vision of the future. He turned around to face Eliza, Hercules, and Lafayette. “He’s going to be fine,” he told them.

“Of course he is,” Eliza said softly. “He’s got you.”

Alex looked back down at John and smiled. “He does,” he confirmed. “He’s got me.”

Suddenly, John let out a slight cough. As Alex watched with anticipation, he opened his eyes. “And _you’ve_ got _me_ ,” John mumbled.

“So I do,” Alex laughed, taken aback. “Are you gonna stay with me now? No more stupid self-sacrifices.”

“No promises,” John told him, closing his eyes again. “But I don’t...don’t think we’re gonna need them anymore.”

“I hope not,” Alex sighed. He glanced behind him. Without him even saying anything, their three friends were slipping out the door quietly and leaving them alone. He smiled. What did he do to deserve them?

“Hey, Alex?” John breathed.

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s all gonna be okay.”

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, my dear friends. At the very end. We're finally at the end, we've had quite a run--writers and readers...we sometimes get the job done. Anyway, I really hope this lived up to all your expectations. I'm not going to make this a long note, because I think the chapter speaks for itself. If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment! And come and talk to me on my tumblr (link below)! There will be more to come, just not in this 'verse unless you really, really want me to.  
> Alright. This is it. Sleep well, my beautiful friends. I really loved going on this journey with you all. You are all precious and worth all of the riches in the world. May your every moment be filled with comfort and happiness and love. Thank you. Thank you. You are amazing. You are valid. I love you.  
> ~Clare  
> P.S. I think it's all gonna be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! This story has twenty chapters and is completely finished being written. I'll post one chapter every Tuesday and Friday. I'm really enjoying being a part of this wonderful fandom, and I'm so excited to be contributing more than a few little sketches on tumblr. Speaking of tumblr, come scream with me [here](http://marqueer-de-lafayette.tumblr.com/) about anything and everything. <3 Many thanks for reading, and much love! <3 ~Clare


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